


Five Years After the End of the World

by andthatisterrible



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-05-20 11:47:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 118,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14894060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andthatisterrible/pseuds/andthatisterrible
Summary: It's been five years since the zombie apocalypse wiped out most of the population, and Root's been living in the zombie-infested wilderness with only the Machine to help her. Meanwhile the majority of the survivors cluster in cities, safe but trapped under the dubious leadership of the remnants of Samaritan. The Mayhem Twins are just trying to keep their heads down while they try to save a few lives with the occasional help of Detective Carter. They didn't ask to get sent out into the woods to save some strange woman. Shaw definitely isn't into her or anything. Nope, not at all. She just wants to help her save the world that's all.Shoot Zombie Apocalypse AU.





	1. Rescue

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write a zombie apocalypse au for shoot for like forever, but never got around to it until now. It's sorta kinda set in a canon divergent universe? But not really? Like an alternate version of the canon universe that then diverges into a zombie au? You'll probably notice some obvious differences as you go.
> 
>  
> 
> Note the rating as there are quite a few explicit scenes in this which I've marked off with triple horizontal lines so you can skip them if you're here for the zombies but not the banging.
> 
> There is some violence/descriptions of gross zombies, but nothing too bad. Like a soft-M violence rating at worst. As with everything I write, there will be no main character deaths in this, or in any possible future works in this AU.

“This would be going a lot faster if you'd tell me what I'm here for.” Root kicked aside the last piece of wood that had been boarding up the door of the abandoned house. “We’re too close to the city to play guessing games.”

She didn't get a response, but she hadn't really been expecting one.

The interior of the house smelled awful, but the last five years had gotten Root accustomed to a lot of awful smells. It was dark inside, but beams of sunlight filtered through the planks of wood that had been nailed across the windows and showed her the ruins of a living room. The couch was moldy and everything was filthy, but there didn't seem to be anything there worth this errand she'd been asked to run.

Of course she wasn't sure this house was what she was actually looking for. She'd only gotten approximate coordinates and this place had been the only nearby structure she'd found.

Something rustled in the back of the room and Root fumbled for her weapon. She half-crouched, staying as still as possible and listening intently for another noise.

There was another loud rustle and something burst out of the debris and flew straight at her. She sprang forward and...found herself pointing a machete at a squirrel who was staring at her suspiciously from the ruins of the couch.

She let out her breath in a nervous laugh and lowered her arm.

“Somehow I doubt you're why I'm here,” she told the squirrel.

The squirrel regarded her warily for another second, and then darted away out a hole in one of the windows. She watched it go a little regretfully; it was the first living creature she'd spoken to in days. Well, face to face, anyway.

“Well, if I'm not here to talk to a squirrel…” She explored the rest of the house as quietly as she could manage, but there was nothing she could find that gave her any clue why She would have sent her here.

A slight noise from outside made her freeze, and she held her breath, listening again. She really needed to stop talking out loud to herself. One of these days it was going to get her killed. Though she liked to think that She could always hear her.

When the noise failed to reoccur, Root sighed and relaxed a little. She’d been on edge all day ( _more_ on edge), unable to shake the feeling that something or someone was watching her. It was probably just nerves from being too close to the city walls. Ironic how most humans saw the cities as the last bastions of safety, and she saw them as places to be avoided at all costs.

She looked over the house once more, making sure she hadn't missed anything, and then headed back out into the woods. Nothing seemed to have moved since she'd gone into the house, and there were still birds and insects making a racket, so she shoved the long, straight-bladed machete back through the loop she’d made for it on her belt and jumped off the sagging porch of the house.

She grabbed her pack from where she'd hidden it nearby and paused to look up through the tangle of trees at the sky.

“There's nothing here, so I'm going to move on unless you give me a reason not to,” she said softly.

She waited a long minute and then sighed and set out into the trees. There were only a few hours left before it started getting dark, and she needed to be somewhere safe before then.

Back when gas had still been plentiful enough to steal, she'd used cars as both transportation and shelter, but these days she only stole cars for much longer trips and walked everywhere else. It was slower and far more dangerous, but it wasn't like she had a lot of choices.

The forest came right up to the edge of the highway, and she paused at the edge of the treeline to scan the stretch of rusted out cars that had been abandoned there. The open space of roads instinctively felt safer since she could see much further, but roads meant humans were more likely and she worked very hard to avoid humans. The area looked clear enough, though, so she hopped over the rail onto the asphalt and set off down the road.

Without new instructions from Her, she was at a bit of a loss on what to do next, but it was hardly the first time She'd vanished for days and Root figured that getting away from the city would make it easier for Her to contact her safely.

And being this close to the city was stressing her out. Sure it was almost a two hour drive away and she couldn't even see it from here, but it was still too damn close. She needed to get out in the middle of nowhere again fast.

She'd only gone a few feet when she realized something had changed. She stopped and looked around, but nothing seemed out of place. Except….

The woods, full of the sounds of chirping birds and buzzing insects only seconds before, had gone deathly silent. Root's hand fell to the handle of her machete as she turned around slowly in a circle. Out in the open like this, there were many directions to run in, but just as many to be attacked from. She needed to get away, find high ground, but she couldn't do that until she knew where the threat was coming from.

Movement in the trees on one side of the road drew her attention and she spun to face it, machete drawn.

Two of them lurched out of the trees in tandem. One had been a large man in life, and now its large frame jerked awkwardly when it moved, unable to properly control its own long limbs. The other was of a more average height and build, but nearly as uncoordinated as the first. Both of them were in an advanced state of decay, skin shredded and hanging in ribbons over bone and sinew. The large one was missing an eye, the remains of it smeared down its face.

Root didn't take her eyes off of them, but she felt a little better. Two slow ones like this weren't going to pose much of a threat to her. She could take care of them quickly and then be on her….

She didn't hear the third one until it was almost too late, and spun at the last moment at the sound of bare feet slapping on the pavement. This one wasn't slow at all, and it charged straight at her, its arms dangling uselessly at its sides.

She jumped back and tried to get far enough away to keep all three in her line of vision.

The fast one had overshot and run past her, crashing into a rusted car, but now it regained its balance and turned its head to look at her. Its eyes were milky white and she could see bits and pieces of its teeth and skull through the strips of missing flesh on its face.

And it reeked. The smell of rotten meat was thick in the air, and even though she was no stranger to it, she still almost gagged.

She was ready when it ran at her this time, and dropped down when it was almost on her to sweep its legs out from under it. The second it fell forward, she was on her feet again and smashing its skull with her blade. She stabbed it until it stopped twitching and then a few extra times for good measure before she turned her attention back to the slower two.

One of them had made it onto the road by falling forward over the highway guardrail and was now trying to crawl towards her. The other was bumping into the guardrail endlessly, stuck. She redoubled her grip on her machete and moved in to finish them off when she heard an unnerving sound. Shoes and bare feet on pavement.

There were more of the fast ones on the road now, at least five, approaching quickly. Too many for her to fight out here with only a machete. She sighed in disgust. She really fucking hated zombies.

She turned and ran.

* * *

 

“This is your fault,” Root hissed under her breath. Why had She sent Root out here if this was the only result? Root glared at nothing and readjusted herself on the tree branch.

Years of surviving out here had turned her into an excellent climber. Some zombies might be fast and vicious, but none of them were coordinated enough to climb a tree, which was a good thing because at the moment there were four of them clawing ineffectually at the base of the large tree she'd scurried up.

Getting stuck like this was a bit of a problem since there was no way to escape and she'd run out of food and water long before her unwanted friends got bored, but she'd gotten out of similar situations before relatively unscathed. Of course, in those cases she'd always had some help from Her, and She was being very quiet at the moment.

Root had resigned herself to spending the night in a tree since it was starting to get dark and trying to climb down and dodge past four of the more alert type of the plague of undead seemed like a bad idea. She'd pulled crazier stunts before, but the long hike today had worn her out and if she had to sleep through the groaning and rasping coming from the ground then oh well.

She'd pulled a coil of rope out of her bag to lash herself to the branch, when she heard the sound of a car engine approaching.

“Friends of yours?” she asked the shambling monsters scratching at her tree. “Don't suppose you boys would help a girl out and tell them to come back later?”

She wasn't that far into the woods, so she could still mostly see the road through the trees, and she could definitely see the SUV pull up to the side of the road and four people get out.

What a world they lived in that she preferred the company of a pack of flesh-eating corpses to any interactions with her own kind.

Well, she was out of options now for sure which meant she was going to have to take her chances and make a run for it.

She was halfway down the trunk of the tree when the people from the SUV got close enough for her to get a good look at. Gas masks and blue jackets. Samaritan. She snarled at them and sped up her descent, feet slipping on the branches.

There was one thing working in her favor, though. The zombies at the bottom of the tree had all turned their attention to the newcomers and her path was clear.

“Don't move!” one of the Samaritan agents shouted.

She wasn't sure if the command was meant for her or the creatures, but she was pretty damn sure no one was going to pay attention and she didn't stop to find out.

A _whoosh_ and the smell of burning flesh made her look up. Two of the agents carried flamethrowers, and the flames licked out over the shambling creatures. They fell, screeching in an inhuman way that sent a shiver down her spine.

She was never going to get a better chance than this, she figured, and dropped the last few feet from the tree to the ground. She landed badly and her ankle twisted and sent a shock of pain up her leg, but she ignored it and took off through the trees.

She only made it a few steps before she heard gunfire and a bullet zipped past her and took a chunk out of a tree. She gritted her teeth and kept running. Better to die from a clean shot than any of the alternatives. And once guns started going off it was only a matter of time before this area was swarming. Gunfire drew the attention of zombies like blood in the water.

The next shot didn't go wide and the force of it hitting her back sent her sprawling forwards into the leaves and dirt on the forest floor. She tried to get up, but between her ankle and the new throbbing pain in the back of her shoulder, she fell back down.

“She's down,” she heard one of the men say, and then there were hands trying to turn her over. She lashed out, kicking and clawing. One of them got their hand too close to her face and she bit down, allowing herself a momentary thrill of satisfaction at the pained shriek that got.

But then there was the prick of a needle in her arm and she could feel the fight going out of her as everything swum in a haze of pain and drugs. Why in the hell had She sent her here if this was how it was going to end?

Her eyes were drooping shut when she heard more gunfire and one of the men near her let out a yell of pain. She forced her eyes back open just long enough to see someone new coming through the trees towards her, gun raised and expression focused.

There were a few more shots and the hands restraining her were gone.

The newcomer was close enough now that their face momentarily popped into focus for Root and the shock of it held off the drugs long enough for her to say aloud the name she'd seen in a file what felt like a lifetime ago.

“Who the hell are you?” her rescuer asked, but Root was too far gone to answer.

The last thing she heard as she drifted off was a woman's voice yelling, “Reese, get your ass over here. We have a problem.”

Yes, Root thought, we definitely do.

* * *

 

She woke up slowly, her mind wrapped in a heavy grey fog. It was warm here, and soft. Definitely not a Samaritan laboratory then, which meant….

She peeled open one eye and scanned her surroundings. She was lying on her stomach in a bed along the wall of a cramped, windowless room. It was evidently someone's bedroom, but even though it was quite small, there was very little in the way of furnishing or decorations. Maybe it was a spare room, if such a thing still existed.

But wherever this was, she must have been brought here by humans which meant it was time for her to leave as quickly and quietly as….

She let out a strangled whimper when she tried to push herself up and fell back into the sheets. Her back felt like it was on fire, a throbbing pain that spread out from her left shoulder.

“Knock it off.”

The voice startled her and made her heart hammer in her chest, her mind frozen somewhere between fight and flight. She didn't think she wanted to test getting up again, so she settled for turning her head far enough to see the speaker.

There was a woman standing by the door, short, dark-haired, definitely attractive, and strangely familiar.

Oh, right. She'd been the one who’d rescued Root out in the woods. Possibly rescued anyway; that remained to be seen. But she knew this woman–knew of her, anyway.

“You're Shaw, right?”

The woman, Shaw, didn't react at all to Root naming her and instead moved away from the door to stand next to the bed. Cool fingers touched Root's shoulder, far too close to the bullet wound on her back, and she barely swallowed another whimper.

“You need to stay still or it'll start bleeding again. Took the bullet out while you were still out cold, but it's going to take a little while to heal up.” Shaw's voice was even and professional, no hint of what she thought about Root or any of this.

“You're a doctor,” Root said. “Or almost. You were in medical school, but you never finished your residency. Then you spent some time in the marines and later–” Root smiled to herself. “–you had a very special job, didn't you? From someone who always knew what was going to happen before it did and was always right.” She knew she was probably talking too much, giving too much away, but she was injured and stuck in unfamiliar territory and her instincts told her to throw Shaw off balance as well, level out the playing field.

Shaw’s fingers withdrew from her back and she finally looked down at Root and met her gaze.

“If you know all that, then you know why I was out in the woods yesterday.” There was a challenge in her eyes, one which Root unfortunately couldn't meet right now.

She decided to go with honesty–not her favorite tactic, but she was in too much pain to come up with a better one.

“Honestly? Not a clue.” Not with Her still silent.

The ghost of a smile flickered across Shaw's face. “Guess you don't know everything after all.”

She turned away to get something off the table behind her, just out of Root's view, and came back a second later holding a syringe. Root tensed involuntarily, remembering what had happened in the woods.

“It's morphine,” Shaw explained. “For the pain. Make you a little drowsy, but it's better if you stay still for now.” She moved forward to take Root's arm, but Root pulled away.

“Wait. Where am I?”

Shaw raised an eyebrow in what Root thought must have been surprise. “You're in the city. You know, New York. Or what's left of it.”

A cold spike of horror ran through Root and she struggled to sit up again, the pain lancing through her entire back. Shaw pressed a hand to the center of her back and forced her back down.

“Stay still. You're going to open the wound again.” She paused for a second as if considering her words. “No one saw us bring you in, okay? You're safe here for now.”

Root chuckled without humor. “Safe? I doubt that.”

Shaw's hand was still on her back, and Root tried to remember the last time she'd touched another human that wasn't for violence. Years at this point. Some part of her wanted to press up into the contact.

“Safer than you'd have been with those Samaritan agents,” Shaw pointed out and withdrew her hand.

Root couldn't argue with that, and this time when Shaw went to inject her she didn't struggle.

Shaw put the syringe in a plastic bag and went back towards the door. “Get some sleep. And when you wake up we're going to discuss how you knew my name.”

Root smiled at the closing door. She _had_ gotten to her after all. Good to know.

The drugs kicked in, blissfully chasing the pain away, and Root slept.

* * *

 

It felt like morning when she next woke. There were no windows in the room, so she couldn't be sure, but some internal clock that she'd developed as a survival instinct over the years was telling her the sun had risen.

Her shoulder still throbbed, but it felt more bearable now and she managed to pull herself up into a sitting position. Someone, Shaw presumably, had stripped her shirt and bra off before putting her in bed, in order to deal with the bullet in her back, no doubt.

She didn't see her missing clothes anywhere in the room. She also didn't see her pack or any of her weapons. Her shoes and socks were gone as well along with the small knife she kept hidden in her boot.

All of which meant she was stuck for the moment. She couldn't survive out there without some very basic gear.

Through the closed door she could hear muffled voices. It sounded like an argument, but she couldn't pick out any of the words from this side of the door.

She’d forgotten about twisting her ankle out in the woods and almost fell over when she tried to put weight on it. She gingerly rolled her pants leg up enough to get a look at the damage: red and a little swollen, but it could have been much worse.

Her second attempt to get to the door went better, though she was definitely hobbling around ungracefully. She opened the door a tiny crack (slightly surprised to find it unlocked) and peered into the next room.

“There were four of them after her. Four.” The tall man sitting at the table in the middle of the room wasn't talking loudly, but he did sound very intense. “And that other van we passed on the way was definitely headed for her as well.”

“We've been over this already, Reese. Don't have a lot of options here.” Shaw was perched on the edge of a different table, her legs dangling. “Can chuck her out on her ass, but seems like a waste after all the trouble we went through to save her.”

“We can't do that.” Reese sounded annoyed by the suggestion. “But we need to know what we're dealing with here. Samaritan must want her pretty badly to send that many agents after her.”

“Why don't we just ask her then? I'm sure she'd be willing to cough up some information considering we saved her ass.” Shaw turned to look directly at the door Root was hiding behind. “Isn't that right?”

The man, Reese, cursed and half rose from his chair.

Root was impressed that Shaw had spotted her, and even more impressed that she hadn't let on. Since there was no point in hiding now, Root pushed the door all the way open. Reese stared at her for half a second with a panicked look and then practically fled the room. Root watched his departing back, a bit puzzled.

From across the room, Shaw laughed, a throaty chuckle that lit up her whole face and made Root stare in fascination.

“I feel like I'm missing something,” Root said, limping a little further out into the room.

“Yeah, your shirt.” Shaw jumped off the table and stalked towards her, stopping just short to glance her over.

She'd forgotten about the no-shirt thing, spent too much time on her own in the middle of nowhere, but her brief assessment of Shaw earlier had been correct–she _was_ really attractive–and if she wanted to look….

“See something you like?”

“You look like you haven't had a shower in a year,” Shaw said disdainfully. She moved around Root to poke at the bandage on her shoulder. “Surprised this didn't get infected already.”

“Maybe you're just good at your job, doctor Shaw.” She added a teasing lilt to her voice and glanced over her shoulder to see if it got a reaction.

Shaw frowned a tiny bit and then stepped back. “If you're feeling well enough to walk around, you're well enough to answer some questions.” She gestured at the table. “Sit.”

By the time Root eased herself down into a chair, Shaw had found an oversized shirt that she tossed in Root's lap.

“Not enjoying the view?” Root asked as she did her best to get the shirt on without jarring her injury.

Shaw dropped into the other chair at the table. “Maybe if you didn't look like you'd been rolling around in the dirt.”

“That wasn't a no.” It had kind of been a no, but oh well. Root gave up on getting her hurt arm through the sleeve and instead batted her eyelashes at Shaw.

Shaw looked at her incredulously and then rolled her eyes. “Want to tell me how you ended up in the woods with two cars full of Samaritan agents hunting you down? They don't roll out the red carpet for just anyone.”

Root tapped her fingernails against the tabletop, and considered her fairly limited options. “Are you sure you wouldn't rather hear about how I know your name?”

“I'm figuring those two things are related.”

Shaw was certainly clever; Root was going to have to watch what she said around her.

“You haven't asked _my_ name yet.”

Shaw shrugged. “Habit. No point learning names if they're going to be dead soon anyway.”

“How delightfully morbid of you.” Though not inaccurate; life expectancy was measured in days and hours rather than years now.

“And I figure with how much you like running your mouth off, you'll tell me on your own soon enough.”

“No need to be rude, Sameen.”

Something in Shaw’s expression flickered at the name, but it was gone too fast for Root to make sense of.

They stared at each other silently for a few seconds. Root slowly and deliberately licked her lips and then bit her bottom lip. Shaw’s eyes flicked down, and then back up, and then she turned away entirely to look across the room.

“So what were you–” Shaw started.

“It's Root.”

Shaw turned back to her. “What?”

“Root. It's my name.”

Shaw just stared at her blankly.

“And I'm not entirely sure what I was doing out in the woods. Looking for something, I think.”

“Looking for what?”

“No idea.” She tapped one finger against her lips and noted how Shaw's eyes followed the movement. “Why were you there?”

Shaw got up from the table and walked over to a counter that ran along one wall. She opened a drawer and pulled out a sheet of paper.

“Because of this,” she said, dropping it onto the table.

Root was startled to see her own face staring up at her from the page. It was an old picture, and poorly reproduced in greyscale from what was probably a very cheap printer, but it was definitely her. It was a little shocking to see herself the way she'd been before all this started. Her face in the picture was a lot fuller, her hair was styled, and she was missing the scar that ran along the edge of her jaw now.

Next to her picture on the page were a series of coordinates. She was willing to bet they were where Shaw had found her yesterday.

“Where did you get this?” she asked quietly. There were only two possibilities, and if it had been Samaritan she didn't think she'd be sitting here right now.

“Uh-uh. You first.” Shaw sat back in her chair and crossed her arms.

“I already told you, I don't know what I was looking for out there.” She couldn't help but stare a little at Shaw's arms, which were...just ridiculously nice arms, especially when she shifted a little and flexed them and now was not the time to get distracted by things like that but _still_.

“But you had a reason for going there in the first place. Someone told you there was something there to find. Who?”

“Maybe it came to me in a dream.”

“Bullshit.”

“Can I get some water, please?”

Shaw froze, momentarily thrown off by the sudden change of topic. She scowled as if she suspected that Root was using the request to get out of answering (which she absolutely was), but she got up anyway, pulled a bottle of water out of a cupboard, and set it on the table in front of Root.

Root took her time drinking, both to stall and because she _was_ really damn thirsty. She'd been rationing out her water before this whole mess and she wasn't sure exactly how long it'd been since she’d had anything to drink.

She drank about half the bottle and then made a show of licking her lips as she put the cap back on, noting Shaw's expression as she did so. Anything she could use to distract Shaw and keep her off balance was a useful tool to have right now. Her main goal here was to recover her possessions and get out of this place and back into the wild, but she couldn't do that quite yet. Especially not with how closely Shaw watched her.

“Where do you get your water from?” she asked.

“No.”

Root raised an eyebrow. “No? You don't get your water from anywhere?”

“No, I'm not answering any more questions until you do.”

Since Shaw wasn't going to let her get out of it, she decided to answer a different question instead. “I got ahold of a copy of your file. Had your whole history in it, from your childhood, through med school, and your military record. And your time working for the ISA, of course.”

Shaw’s forehead creased. “The ISA isn't big on keeping records. Hard to believe you found much.”

“Oh, they kept them alright, in what they thought was a completely secure location, but the thing with digital data is that security is just a deterrent. It might slow someone down, but it won't stop them.”

“You're a hacker,” Shaw said as if she'd figured something out. “You hacked the ISA?”

“Several times, but that's not how I got your file. Well, it is, but it's not why it got my attention.” She paused to take another sip of water (and to drag out the suspense). “Someone told me, that out of all the personnel files I acquired, yours was worth a closer look.” And She'd been right.

“Someone.” Shaw shook her head. “And if I ask who that someone is, you're just going to keep talking in circles, right?”

“You catch on fast.”

“You know, I could still kick you out.”

“This water–” Root held up the almost empty bottle. “–do you get it rationed out to you here?”

“A bit.” If Shaw was put off by her rapidly changing the topic yet again, she didn't show it.

“Running water, though?”

“Most of Manhattan still has some form of plumbing working if that's what you're asking. Why?”

Root smiled. “Well, as you so nicely pointed out, I could use a shower.”

She honestly thought Shaw would refuse her, but Shaw just sighed. “Fine. But only because you stink.”

* * *

 

The bathroom was tiny, barely large enough for the toilet and shower stall, but it was extremely clean. Root wasn't sure if she'd seen a cleaner room in years. Or ever, for that matter.

“Here.” Shaw shoved a towel at her. “There's some shampoo on the ledge, but don't use much, okay? Some soap in there, too.”

The towel was a bit threadbare, but it was soft and clean.

“What about the bandage?”

“Gonna have to change it soon anyway. Leave it on and I'll put a new one on after.” Shaw looked her up and down. “And I'll try to find you something to wear, I guess.”

Shaw's gaze didn't linger on her, but was almost too brief, as if she was purposefully looking away almost immediately.

“I have clothes.”

“Not letting you use all my water just to get back in filthy clothes.”

“In my pack…” Which she still hadn't located.

“Everything in there was gross, too. I can get it all washed, but until then….” She shrugged.

“Why?” She asked the question before she'd thought it through, but it kept nagging her. Because there was no reason for Shaw to have killed Samaritan agents to rescue her, or smuggled her back into the city. And definitely no reason for her to patch her up, let her use her shower, and get her clean clothes. It didn't make sense.

“I told you, your clothes are gross and if you're going to steal all the clean water then…” She trailed off as if she'd sensed what Root had really been asking. “Most people we, uh, try to help, they don't make it. Odds are stacked against us. Been a while since we had a success. Being too late all the time gets old fast.” Shaw scowled at the floor. “Now take a shower and I'll go find you some clothes,” she said again, firmly.

“Thanks, Sameen.” She touched Shaw's arm when she said it, felt her twitch slightly in response to the contact, but Shaw didn't pull away. She stared at where Root's hand rested on her upper arm like she couldn't figure out how it had gotten there.

Shaw cleared her throat and stepped back, Root's fingers trailing over her arm before falling away. “Yeah, whatever,” she muttered.

And then she was gone, leaving Root to puzzle out everything she'd just heard.

“You're giving her numbers, aren't you?” she asked softly. She knew She couldn't answer her here, but She probably wouldn't have answered that particular question even if She could have.

The water in the shower was lukewarm at best, but it felt amazing to Root. Shaw had warned her that she couldn't take more than ten minutes, so she fought down the urge to just stand under the spray and got to work trying to clean off as much of herself as she could. Her wound burned painfully when the water soaked through the bandage, but getting clean felt so good that she managed to ignore it.

The water running down the drain was stained with a mix of dirt and blood and she scrubbed herself until it ran clear. The shampoo was fairly diluted, and she did her best to use only a little. Shampoo was one of those luxuries that she really did miss.

She felt almost human again when she turned the water off. She wrapped herself in the towel and peeked her head out the door cautiously. Earlier she'd been wandering around shirtless without a care in the world, but now, after her shower and with nothing left of her own near her, she felt a bit vulnerable.

Fortunately, Shaw had left a pile of clothes right outside the door for her. The pants were a little too large, but the belt provided made them manageable. There wasn't a shirt, but there was a hoodie that it was much easier for her to get over her injured arm. She wondered if that had been intentional on Shaw's part. She also wondered if the underwear in the pile were actually Shaw’s. It'd be fun to ask about that later.

The bathroom had been off the room she'd been talking to Shaw in earlier, but that room was empty now except for a large dog, curled up on a dog bed on the corner. She watched it, suspicious, but it only lifted its head and wagged its tail a couple times when she entered the room.

Well, if they were going to leave her guarded only by a friendly dog, then it was their own fault if she looked around for herself.

A quick inspection of the room led her to believe it was mostly used for storage. There were bottles of water and packaged food in the drawers and cabinets, but none of her stuff was there.

The next room down was another bedroom, more cluttered than the one she'd woken up in, but also currently unoccupied. The last door led to a small hallway, but it was impossible to determine much about it due to the fact Reese was looming in the middle of it.

“Going somewhere?” he asked.

She did the math: she was barefoot, unarmed, and hurt, and he was very definitely none of those things. She put on her best frightened innocent look.

“I...I'm sorry, I just...I'm a little confused about everything that's happened.”

Reese’s expression softened slightly and Root held back a smirk.

“Come back to your room and lie down,” Reese said, gesturing back the way she'd come. “Shaw will be back in a second.”

“Did you...did you happen to see where my things ended up?” She hunched her shoulders in and twisted her hands together. “I don't have a lot left in the world and I'd hate to lose what little I have left.”

“Your things are safe. Shaw will give them back to you soon.” Reese’s voice was gentle, but firm.

“I'm just...so _scared._ ” Root sniffed loudly and hugged her arms across her chest.

“There's no reason to be scared.” Reese moved a little closer. “You're safe here.”

She kept sniffling until he was just close enough, his guard dropped, and then she moved, quick as lightning and snatched the gun shoved in the waistband of his pants.

Reese grimaced at her, but begrudgingly put his hands up when she motioned. She glanced at the dog on the other side of the room to see if it had reacted, and while its head was up and it was alert, it looked like it was waiting for further instructions. She turned back to Reese.

“My things?” she asked again in a much colder voice.

He glared at her, sulking.

“Wow, Reese. I leave you alone for two minutes and you let her get your gun. That's impressively bad, even for you.” Shaw stepped through the door behind Reese, ignoring the gun Root held. The big dog finally got up off its bed and came trotting over to greet Shaw, its tail wagging.

“Good boy, Bear,” Shaw said, in a voice that Root was absolutely positive was reserved only for the dog. “You're the only one here with any sense, aren't you?”

She turned to Root. “And where did you think you were running off to? Out into the city? I have a hunch that's not high on your to-do list which means you're going to need some help getting out of here.”

“I'm good at improvising,” Root said. She lowered the gun, because Shaw was right and running out into the city on her own wasn't a great plan. It was unfortunate, but she probably needed one of them to get her out as secretly as they'd gotten her in.

“I think Reese just found that out.” Shaw looked amused. Reese glowered.

“I'm surprised you keep someone with his trusting nature around,” Root said and smiled sweetly at the glare Reese shot her. “Kindness is _so_ easy to take advantage of. Especially now.”

“Yeah, he's an idiot for falling for your little act, but that doesn't mean you're not an asshole for doing it,” Shaw said easily. She held out her hand and Root found herself handing over the gun, much to her own bewildered amusement.

“Good, now that's settled.” Shaw handed the gun back to Reese who looked like he was thinking about pointing it at Root, but tucked it away instead.

“What now?” Root asked. “Going to release me back into the wild?”

Shaw snorted. “Not quite yet. Still got a few questions. But first, let's make sure your arm doesn't rot off.”

* * *

 

Shaw didn't get to patch people up much these days. She didn't do basic first aid for people in the city as a rule, and anyone who got hurt outside the city walls usually wasn't going to make it. But here she was patching up some crazy woman that their benevolently possessed printer had spit out the location of.

She wanted a refund on that printer.

“Stop squirming.”

Root continued to squirm until Shaw put her hand down on her uninjured shoulder and pressed her down more firmly into the mattress.

That definitely got a response, though the little hitch in Root's breath and the way her eyelashes fluttered weren't really helping Shaw concentrate. She resolutely put that out of her mind and went back to replacing the bandage on Root's shoulder.

“If you won't tell me why you were out in the woods, can you at least tell me how those Samaritan agents knew where to find you?”

“It's not safe for me near cities,” Root said. Her fingers gripped the sheets hard against the pain which...was also kind of distracting.

It wasn't that Root had been unattractive to start with, even covered in grime, but showered and cleaned up Shaw got a look at who she might have been before the world had gone to hell.

She wasn't completely sure what to make of this stray they'd picked up. Root swerved back and forth between fear and contempt and still hadn't let slip any indication of why she was here in the first place. And then there was the flirting. Shaw couldn't remember the last time someone had tried to flirt with her (not with the way the whole world had gone to hell), and while Root lacked finesse, it was a bit flattering.

She shook the stray thoughts from her head and tried to refocus on the topic at hand.

“They plant a tracker on you or something?” Though she felt like Root would have cut a tracker out of herself without batting an eye.

“No, but there's...things that can make me easier to find when I'm this close to it.”

“This close to what?”

“Samaritan.”

“You believe that stuff about Samaritan actually being some kind of evil AI?”

“You don't?”

The problem was, she did, but she didn't want to. An evil organization with humans at the head, she could fight. An evil computer that could be everywhere at once? A bit trickier.

“Dunno.” Seemed like a safe answer.

Root turned her head enough so that she could look up over her shoulder at her. “Shaw, there's been a literal zombie apocalypse happening across the globe for the last five years and it's AI you have a hard time believing in?”

Shaw frowned. “Don't call them that.”

“Call who what?” Root looked confused. “Zombies?”

Shaw made a face.

Root stared at her in disbelief. “They're...walking corpses come back from the dead. What else would you call them?”

“Don't know. Something else. Zombies are lame, okay?”

Root gaped at her for another second and then threw back her head and laughed. It only lasted a second before she got ahold of herself. She looked startled, as if she hadn't known she could still laugh.

Shaw felt strangely proud for having been the cause of that.

“How long?” she asked.

“Pardon?”

“How long have you been living out in the wild? Most folks don't last a week out there. Even criminals gang up, build strongholds. Going solo gets you dead.”

Root shrugged and then winced when it pulled at her shoulder. “It's been...quite a while, I guess. Cities aren't safe for me either. They're actually less safe.”

“Samaritan wants you pretty badly, huh?” She finished patting the bandage into place.

“It certainly has tried its best to find me. I made it a bit angry right before...before everything.”

Realization dawned on Shaw. “You've been on the run since this all started.” It sounded impossible, but Root's expression confirmed it. But no one could survive out there that long. Not without help.

She felt like she had almost all the pieces of some huge puzzle here, but hadn't quite managed to put them all together. If Samaritan really was an AI, and it wasn't the source of the numbers she'd gotten in the ISA or the rescue missions their printer kept spitting out, and that last mission had dumped Root right in their laps then….

“There's a second AI, isn't there?”

Root’s face went carefully blank, but that was an answer in itself.

“And you, what? Report to it? It kept you safe out there all these years.” The pieces were all snapping together now. “The ISA used to work with it–” She’d known something was up with his the ISA got their data, but she'd never quite suspected this. “–and then Samaritan happened and, I don't know, they got in a fight? And your AI is in hiding? Why does it keep sending us the numbers then?”

Back in the ISA, they'd gotten missions in the form of social security numbers, but now, with social security numbers being useless and impossible to trace, they got missions on printouts from an old printer that they'd found in the hideout they lived in, a huge basement under an abandoned building in what had once been the west village. The pages they got had a picture, sometimes a name, a time and date, and gps coordinates on them, and all they had to do was show up at the right time and place.

Except between Samaritan and the flesh-eating not-zombies, their success rate was beyond low.

“She just wants to help people,” Root said softly.

She. This was rapidly getting more complicated rather than less. Shaw switched back to what she knew.

“Listen, we got a new...number about half an hour ago. It's outside the city. We can take you back out with us when we leave tonight. We saved your life so technically our job is done, but, uh, I don't think you're gonna last much longer out there on your own. If we hadn't been there last time….”

“Are you asking me to move in?” Root was teasing again and Shaw found herself strangely annoyed by that, because this was serious.

“We saved your life. Be a waste if you went and died right after.”

Root was silent for a few seconds, considering.

“I'd like to come along on your mission, Shaw. I can't stay here.”

“Yeah, okay.” Shaw ignored the small twinge of disappointment she felt at Root's words.


	2. A Night in the Woods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reminder that sex stuff is marked off by triple horizontal lines if you wish to avoid it.

“A boat?” Root’s surprised look was somewhat gratifying for Shaw, considering how much of a know-it-all she’d turned out to be.

“All the bridges are guarded and the tunnels got collapsed years ago.” Shaw watched Reese untie the line on the small motorboat they kept well-hidden on one of the piers. “Water is the only way in or out of here without Samaritan’s clearance.”

“No one ever tries to swim?”

“Water is really cold most of the year, and it's way too far to swim for most people. Also, those, uh, things are down there in the water. Don't have to breathe, you know, so they just wander in and walk along the bottom.”

Root eyed the water distastefully. “Yes, I'm...aware.”

There was a story there, no doubt, but Root didn't seem eager to share it.

“You sure you don't want to drug her before we take her in the boat?” Reese asked, pointedly ignoring Root. He was still sulking about how she'd played him so easily earlier.

“You really want to lug her comatose body around again?”

Reese sighed but didn't ask again, and he even offered Root a hand down onto the boat (which she ignored). Shaw jumped on last and shoved them off the splintery pier.

“They don't have lookouts?” Root asked, looking back at the dark buildings behind them. From a distance it was almost possible to imagine that Manhattan was still what it used to be, and not the ruins of a once-great city populated only by desperate and terrified survivors and policed by Samaritan agents.

“Theoretically they do, but we, uh, we've got some contacts still.” That was all she was willing to say about it. She was pretty damn sure Root didn't work for Samaritan, but that didn't mean she'd keep her mouth shut if they ever captured her. Shaw had already put herself and Reese in enough danger by bringing Root back to their base.

Shaw grabbed the oars from the bottom of the boat and set to work rowing them out further. A few minutes into it she became aware of Root’s wide-eyed stare at her arms and shoulders as she pulled the oars through the water. She smirked a little and made a point of exaggerating her motions even more.

It was kind of nice to participate in this weird game Root had initiated between them. Definitely made a change from the way her days usually went.

They switched on the motor when they got far enough out and Shaw steered the little boat towards the far shore.

“How far are you going?” Root called over the engine.

“Same area we found you in, actually. About a two hour drive.”

Whatever the Samaritan agents had dosed Root with had kept her out cold for the entire ride back and through Shaw pulling a bullet out of her shoulder.

She looked down at where Root was shivering in the bottom of the boat, her arms wrapped around herself in an attempt to fend off the cold air whipping around them. She was mostly wearing her own clothes again, but she’d stubbornly held onto the hoodie Shaw had lent her. It was a good hoodie and Shaw was sorry to lose it, but Root had refused to take any of the other clothes she'd offered her, insistent on only taking her own things. At least she'd let Shaw get her stuff washed first.

“We've got a welcoming party,” Reese called back to her from the front of the boat.

Sure enough, there was a pack of those-things-that-definitely-weren't-zombies milling around near where they usually tied their boat up on this side. From the slow, shuffling movements Shaw was fairly confident they were just normal...ambulatory corpses, not those disturbingly fast ones that seemed to be growing in number these days.

Reese stood up in the prow of the boat, a bottle in hand. As they neared the shore, he set a match to the cloth stuffed in the top of the bottle and chucked it at the shore.

There was a  _whoomp_  and a rush of flames lit up all the shambling figures. The stench of burning rotted flesh filled Shaw's nostrils and made her wrinkle her nose. It was gross as hell, but they'd figured out ages ago that this was the best way. Guns were too loud, and ammo was scarce. Fire was the most sure way to kill them.

“Take it you're hitching a ride with us?” Shaw asked Root as they clambered out of the boat.

“The further away I get from this place, the better.”

“You're not going to survive out here very long on your own,” Reese pointed out.

Shaw had filled him in on bits and pieces of her conversation with Root, but not the part where Root had been living out here for five  _years_ , or that she had an AI watching over her or however that worked.

“Your concern is touching, Lurch.”

It was going to be a long car ride.

* * *

 

Root felt a little safer once they left the abandoned suburban roads and got out onto the highway. Trees whipped by outside the window and she let out a sigh of relief.

Shaw glanced back at her in the rearview mirror. “Should get some sleep while you still can. Might be the last chance you have for a safe nap.”

It was a good point, but Root was hesitant to squander the short time she had left with other humans. It had been odd to be around people again, but also sort of nice. And Shaw...she was both everything and nothing like Root had imagined from reading her file years ago. Every time Shaw's skin brushed her own it felt like some magnetic force was pulling them together. It was probably only some psychological reaction to being so touch-starved for years, but it was compelling.

She watched the back of Shaw's neck and shoulders as she drove, memorizing every detail she could for some lonely night in the future.

“Where are you headed after this?”

Reese’s question startled her; she’d thought they'd mutually agreed to ignore each other.

“She hasn't told me yet.”

Reese frowned back at her over the seat. “She who?”

So Shaw hadn't told him. Good. “Do you not call them zombies either?” she asked instead of answering.

Reese cast a guilty look at Shaw. “They're zombies. Hard to argue that.”

Shaw made a disgusted noise.

“If the cities aren't safe for you, there's other places you can go,” Reese said, unwilling to let the point go.

“I'm not some charity case. I can take care of myself.”

“Out here no one survives alone.”

Alone was a much less comforting word than it had been a day ago and she didn't know quite what to do about that.

She pulled her new hoodie more tightly around herself and laid down across the backseat. “Maybe I'll have that nap after all.”

* * *

 

“Get up.” Shaw prodded Root with one finger until she stirred.

Root sat up and yawned. “Where are we?”

Shaw stepped back from the open backseat door and gestured at the forest around them. “The middle of nowhere, just like you wanted.”

It was a bit colder here than it had been in the city, and Shaw huddled inside her oversized camo jacket while she waited for Root to climb out of the car. The jacket was almost too large for her, but that made it perfect for layering over other stuff...like the hoodie that she'd planned to wear before Root had staked a claim to it. She pulled her beanie down over the tops of her ears and tried not to sulk about that.

Root took her time getting out of the car. Shaw had given her all her stuff back before they'd left, including the huge machete which she slipped through the leather loop on her belt. Shaw had found a bunch of other knives in Root's things, but no guns. Strange, but then ammo would be even harder to come by in Root's situation and a gun with no bullets would just be extra weight.

“Can I ask who the number is?”

“Can't your AI buddy tell you?” Shaw asked after glancing over to make sure Reese was out of earshot. She'd explain all this to him eventually, but right now she wasn't sure  _she_  even believed it.

Root’s hand half-rose towards her ear and then fell away. “She...She's being quiet right now.”

Shaw remembered the puckered scar behind Root's ear that she'd seen when she'd been digging that bullet out of her. She had a good idea what a scar like that meant, but she wasn't sure how it was connected to this supposed AI the way Root's motion had suggested.

“It's not exactly a normal number,” Shaw said as she pulled a folded sheet of paper from her pocket and handed it to Root. (She ignored the way Root brushed their fingers together when taking it).

Root frowned at the paper. “No person, only GPS coordinates. Is that normal?”

“Never gotten one like that before,” Reese said as he came around the car. “Don't suppose you'd know why we got it?”

“No idea.” Root chewed her lip and stared at the paper as if trying to find answers in the string of numbers.

No one said anything for a few long seconds. Reese shot Shaw a meaningful look and raised his eyebrows at her. She scowled at him; how was this her problem?

“Uh, so, we're here now,” Shaw stated. “And Reese and I are going to head off to handle this number, so I guess this is where we part ways.”

Root blinked and looked up at her, expression unreadable. Shaw shifted a little under her scrutinizing gaze, unsure what Root was looking for.

“If it's alright with you, I think I'd like to stick around until you take care of this.” Root motioned at the paper.

“Suit yourself,” Shaw said, squashing down the small part of herself that was secretly pleased.

Reese looked pained. “Just make sure you point your weapon at the zombies and not at us.”

Root squinted at him. “What if I mistake you for a zombie?”

Reese hefted the spiked mace that was currently his favorite non-gun weapon in a way that was probably supposed to look threatening. It might have made more of an impression if Root hadn't already made a snide remark earlier about him stealing it from a museum (Shaw had toyed with bringing up the fact that that was  _exactly_  what he'd done, but had decided, considering her own weapon choice, to maybe not).

Shaw smirked at Reese's annoyed expression, but turned away before Root could see. No need to encourage her. “Let's head out.”

It was too quiet in the woods for Shaw’s taste. Not the hush that fell whenever there were...okay, fine, zombies in the area, but quieter than she'd have expected. It set all of them on edge, made them walk a little closer together and eye the trees suspiciously.

“This is supposedly it,” Shaw said as they entered a clearing.

“You sure these are the right coordinates?” Reese asked. He still had his absurd-but-incredibly-effective mace clutched in one hand, but he hadn't reached for his gun yet. Guns were a last resort out here since the noise often attracted more problems.

“They're right.” Root must have seen something because she set off across the clearing with determination.

Shaw cursed under her breath and followed her.

“There.” Root pointed.

The building was almost impossible to see between the trees unless you were looking for it. The walls of it were overgrown and covered in vines, blending it into the woods.

“Starting to think we weren't sent out here to find a person at all,” Reese said when he caught up to them.

“Any idea what's in there?” Shaw asked Root.

Root shook her head, but her eyes never left the building. She was practically vibrating with anticipation.

“I'll take point?” Shaw suggested, and Reese nodded in agreement, falling back to bring up the rear. Root followed Shaw without complaint, her eyes still locked on the building.

There was a door along one wall, or rather, a doorway, since the actual door had fallen off its hinges quite some time ago from the looks of it. The interior of the building was a large, open space with grass growing up through cracks in the floor. There were some tables around the outer wall with various bits and pieces of dead-looking electronic equipment on them, and a ladder that lead up to a small second-floor loft that looked like it had been used for storage.

Root made a beeline for the equipment without even stopping to check if it was safe. Shaw had to resist the urge to storm after her and drag her back by her collar. How the hell had she survived this long on her own?

Shaw helped Reese finish scouting out the room before she went to see what Root had found. Reese headed outside to do a sweep of the building exterior and see if he could find anything to give them a clue as to what this place had been.

Root was running her hands over what looked like a locked, heavy briefcase. There was a symbol emblazoned on the side that looked sort of like a stylized “T”.

“Do you know what this is?” she asked when Shaw stopped next to her. Her eyes are dancing with excitement. This was definitely the most lively Shaw had seen her in their brief time together and there was something contagious about the energy that radiated from her.

“I haven't understood half the shit that's happened since we met you, Root, so, no. What is it?”

“I think it's part of what I've been looking for all these years. So many of them were lost or destroyed, but this case is sealed tight…”

Root ran her fingers over the little combination lock almost reverently.

“Are you going to explain any of that?” Shaw asked without much hope.

There was something off here, but she couldn't quite place her finger on what it was. This place had been locked up at some point, but if whatever was in that briefcase was so damn important, why was there only one door between it and the rest of the world?

Her eyes travelled up the wall above the table to look at the pipes and wires there. There was one wire that wasn't neatly bundled with the others and ran from under the table up the wall to what looked like a fire alarm. Shaw had a sinking feeling in her gut.

“Root, maybe don't…”

Root picked the case up off the table. The section of table it was on rose up a tiny bit and clicked into place. Shaw saw the horrified realization dawn on Root's face, and then the alarm on the wall went off, blaring loudly through the silent forest.

“Shit.” Shaw wasn't sure if she could actually hear the zombies running through the forest towards the noise, or if she was just imagining it, but she knew they'd be here within minutes either way. And here they were stuck in a building without a door and with Root nursing a bullet wound and a sore ankle. Not the best odds.

She looked around the room for something that they could use to barricade the door and her eyes fell on the ladder to the loft.

She gave Root a shove towards it. “Climb. Go.”

“But…”

“Go.” She grabbed one of the two weapons she had slung over her back: a long polished wood handle with a hammer head on one end, one side a large, flat hammer for crushing with, and the other a nasty spike. Technically she thought it was called a war hammer, but that sounded dumb (though she had yet to think of a cooler name much to her continued frustration).

Root looked like she was going to protest again, so Shaw grabbed her by the arm and propelled her towards the ladder. She turned back around just in time to see the first zombie come through the door.

She greeted it with a spike to the head, and watched it fall to the ground, twitching. Two more tried to fit through the door at the same time and she repeated the move with one and then swung back to crush the other one with the hammer side of the weapon. Beyond them she could see the woods swarming with the things.

She backed away slowly as three more fought their way in. There weren't a lot of great options for her here: try and fight and eventually be overrun, or run for the ladder and hope she was fast enough to get out of reach before they caught up.

“Heads up.”

Something flew over her head from up in the loft, and the first wave of undead burst into flames. Shaw didn't wait around to see the results and was away and up the ladder as quickly as she could go. Root helped her haul the ladder up after them and only then did Shaw pause to look back.

The entire floor of the building was overrun now, full of groaning and twitching zombies milling around aimlessly.

“Well,” she said, “this sucks.”

* * *

 

“Do you ever wonder if they can remember anything? You know, from before.” Root was on her stomach, peering over the edge of the loft, her legs bent up at the knees and her feet kicking back and forth slowly in the air.

Shaw had been trying to watch her without getting caught at it for the last fifteen minutes or so, and she looked away guiltily when Root spoke.

“No. No point. Doesn't change anything and it could slow you down in a fight, wondering shit like that.” It could slow  _someone_  down in a fight, anyway, just not her.

Root peered back over her shoulder at her. The light from the camping lantern Shaw had set up on a nearby box cast shadows across her face. “You've never even been curious? You know, what they really are? What drives them?”

“Not really. They're dangerous and fire is the best way to destroy them. That's all I need to know.”

“What if there was a cure?”

“They're dead. No cure for death.” She craned her neck to look over the edge of the loft at the ground below. It'd been almost two hours since they'd been chased up here, and the undead party crashers had almost all vanished well over an hour ago. Now there was only one left and it was stuck walking into the door frame over and over, not quite coordinated enough to free itself.

It wasn't usual for zombies to wander off when they had their prey cornered like this–they couldn't get bored or starve so they were able to outwait a human almost indefinitely. The one thing that would almost certainly call them off was easier prey.

She hoped Reese had made it up a tree or something. They'd been working together since their time in the ISA and he was a good partner in the field and she'd be  _pissed_  if he got himself killed after all this.

Root turned back to watch the zombie straggler. “Do you ever wonder what caused it in the first place?”

Shaw fished around in her bag and pulled out one of the many little surprises she kept hidden away. “Sure. Who doesn't?” A thought occurred to her. “Wait, do you know? That AI you mentioned, does it know?”

Root sighed and her feet slowed their kicking and came to a halt in mid air. “She knows that it's Samaritan’s fault, but She's not sure if it was intentional.”

Shaw finished unfolding her surprise, but set it down across her lap for now. Wouldn't do to distract Root now that she was actually talking. “What could Samaritan gain from killing off most of the population and locking up the rest in cities?”

“A terrified and docile population willing to do anything it says in the name of preserving their own necks.” Root shrugged her good shoulder. “Or maybe it just fucked up. She thinks it was experimenting with adding things to water supplies, chemicals to make humans more malleable, easier to control. Maybe that backfired.”

“What's its, uh, her? name? Your AI, I mean.”

“She doesn't exactly have one. The people who built Her just called Her the Machine, and She never decided to take a name for Herself. She…” Root looked back at Shaw again and froze. “Is that…?”

Shaw smirked, pleased with Root's wide-eyed stare at the unfolded compact bow that she had balanced on her knees.

She stood up and shrugged off her jacket and long-sleeved shirt, leaving only her tank top on. It wasn't that she was trying to show off, it was...okay, so maybe she was showing off a little, but it wasn't like there was anything else to do here. “Never been bowhunting before, Root?”

“Can't say I have.” Root’s voice sounded a little choked.

“Well, I thought I'd do something about our unwelcome guest down there.”

There were plenty more zombies in the woods outside the building (from time to time they'd hear them or one would shamble past the door), but Shaw wanted this last one dealt with before she tried to get some sleep.

She was very aware of how closely Root watched her when she set an arrow to the bow and drew back the bowstring, and maybe she flexed her arm muscles a tiny bit extra while she did so. And then the world narrowed down to herself, her bow, and her target. She released the string and the arrow flew through the air and into the zombie’s skull with a satisfying  _thunk_. She breathed out and nodded in satisfaction as it fell to the ground and stopped moving. Killing them with arrows wasn't always a sure bet, but she’d gotten  _very_  good at it.

She turned to see if Root was impressed, but found that Root hadn't even noticed the zombie takedown and was just gaping at her.

Maybe she'd overdone the flexing a little.

“Looks like we're all alone now,” Root said, and the look in her eyes told Shaw that she'd regained her bearings fast. “Can't go down until dawn at least. Whatever will we do to pass the time?”

Shaw thought she knew what she wanted to do, and she  _definitely_  knew what Root wanted to do, and it wasn't like they could go anywhere and for all they knew they'd never get out of these woods alive, but….

She set her bow down so she could rummage in her bag. “How's your shoulder?” she asked.

“It's fine.”

As if Shaw hadn't seen how she was very deliberately avoiding putting any weight on that arm when she propped herself up.

“Let me take a look.” She pulled the first aid kit out of her pack and went to sit next to where Root was still lying on her stomach. She tugged a little at the hood of her former hoodie. “This needs to come off.”

Root shuffled around a little to pull the hoodie off, but kept trying to shoot her suggestive glances even as she was grimacing from jarring her injury. She'd managed to put a shirt on before they'd left this morning, but now it was in the way and Shaw had to help her get her arm out of it so she could check her wound properly. Root hadn't managed a bra though, which Shaw should have expected but was still a bit of a surprise. She tried to ignore the feeling of Root's skin under her fingertips and the way goosebumps stood out on her when Shaw touched her back.

“Bandage still looks pretty intact, and no blood so you probably didn't reopen it.”

“Good to know I passed inspection.”

She'd seen Root completely topless before and glanced over some of the scars on her back at the time, but now she looked a little closer. There was one on her lower back that looked like she'd been stabbed by something large (fallen and landed on something by Shaw's guess), another bullet wound on her opposite shoulder that looked much older, and an assortment of other less recognizable scars. Shaw had way more than her even from before the world had gone to hell, but Root had seen her share of violence.

“Who patched this one up?” she asked, tracing a finger along the nasty scar on Root's lower back.

Root shivered a little under her touch. “She found me some hack doctor to get the splinters out and stitch it up as best they could.” She bit her lip and studied Shaw’s, face for a moment. “I fell, there was a piece of wood sticking up with a sharp point. Not the greatest experience in my life.”

“What was?” Shaw hadn't meant to ask.

Root fell silent then and turned away to look back down into the room below them. It took Shaw a few seconds to realize her hand was still resting on Root's back. Almost experimentally she pressed down with her thumb, just short of bruising. Root made a small noise in the back of her throat and Shew pressed harder in response.

“Shaw–” Root looked back at her again, her eyes feverishly bright. “–the world ended five years ago, and we're stuck here for who knows how long, with no guarantee we'll make it out.”

“I fully intend to make it out,” she said, but she was focused on Root's lips.

“I was hoping more that you fully intended to make ou…”

The only way to prevent the bad pun she had heard coming was to kiss Root, a soft press of lips that almost immediately turned hard and bruising until she somehow had one hand tangled in Root's hair, holding her in place.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

When they finally broke apart, Root struggled to sit up and pull her shirt the rest of the way off, Shaw fumbling to help her, and yeah she'd seen her topless only a day ago but this was a very different set of circumstances and her mouth went dry at the sight of her.

But there wasn't too much time to stare because Root had no patience at all and tugged up at Shaw's shirt until she obligingly pulled it off and tossed it away. She wanted to push Root back down, press the lengths of their bodies together, but even now as she marvelled at how Root tilted her head back to give Shaw better access to suck and bite at her throat some part of her mind that was always alert and focused reminded her that Root was hurt and even if she’d seemed to enjoy a bit of bruising, pressing a fresh gunshot wound into the hard floor would probably be a mood killer.

She settled for drawing Root towards her until she was straddling her lap and Shaw could run her hands along her back and squeeze her ass just hard enough to make her twitch against her.

She’d expected Root to be aggressive, to push and take and bite, and she definitely was, but there was something uneven in the way Root responded to her, moments of hesitation, almost like she was coming up for breath. It occurred to Shaw that living out in the wild for five years with only very occasional human contact likely included all types of human contact and that this might be too much, too fast for Root. She didn't want to slow down or stop, but maybe they should.

“Whatever you're thinking,” Root breathed in her ear, “stop it.”

And then she bit Shaw's neck hard enough that it pulled an unintentional groan from her and fine, if that's how they were going to play things, she was game. She ran her nails down Root's back and Root pawed in frustration at her sports bra until Shaw got her to sit back long enough for her to pull it over her head. Root's whole face lit up at the sight of Shaw's breasts and she almost banged her head into Shaw's collar bone in her rush to get her mouth on them.

Shaw leaned back on one hand and arched her back to give Root all the access she needed. Her other hand threaded into Root's hair to hold her in place when she took one of Shaw's nipples into her mouth and bit roughly at it.

Root’s hands were fumbling at her belt when Shaw's brain kicked her and reminded her that there was some important considerations to take into account here.

“Wait. Root, wait.” She grabbed Root's hands and Root froze and looked back up at her. Her face was flushed and her lips were parted and Shaw had to again resist the urge to press her down against the floor and take her until they were both spent, but she needed to focus, if only for a moment.

She disentangled herself from Root enough that she could grab the first aid kit that had ended up on the ground a few feet away. Root watched her, deeply amused as she pulled a small bottle out of it.

“Hand sanitizer, Shaw? What do you carry that around for? Need to use your hands for, ah, intimate encounters a lot in the field?”

Shaw squinted at her. “No, it's so I can clean my goddamn hands before I treat someone so I don't increase the risk of infection, Root. Not for emergency sex situations.” The first aid kit she'd found in Root's pack had been sadly lacking in her opinion.

“I was pulverizing walking corpses a few hours ago. I'm not sticking my hand down your pants with zom...undead brain matter on them, okay?” She finished with her own hands and shoved the bottle at Root with a meaningful glare.

Root regarded the bottle with an amused expression. “You're worried about hygiene during the zombie apocalypse. That is  _so_  adorable.”

Shaw gave her a withering glare. “The zombie apocalypse is the best time to think about hygiene since there basically is none and no real emergency medical treatment or supplies and…”

Root finished with her own hands and cut Shaw off with another kiss. She dragged her nails down Shaw's arms hard enough to sting and pulled back to breath heavily against Shaw's lips.

“Sweetie, this is all really fascinating, but I need you to stop being practical now and fuck me.”

Well, when she put it that way.

Shaw got up, momentarily dumping Root onto the floor, and then offered her a hand up. The second Root was on her feet, Shaw walked her backwards across the loft–both of them stumbling as they tried to keep kissing while they moved–and pressed her against the wall. Root's eyes were shining and her fingers were laced behind Shaw's neck.

Shaw’s hands dropped to Root's waist, and she jerked the leather belt a little tighter even as she undid it. Root's hands joined hers as they both hurried to yank her pants down her thighs. Shaw had a moment of surprise when she found that her hoodie wasn't the only item of her wardrobe that Root had decided to hold onto, and narrowed her eyes at the sly little smile on Root's face.

Root was lucky that clothes were too valuable to waste these days or she would have ripped her underwear right off of her. She settled for roughly pulling them down and they joined Root's pants, and Root pressed herself up against her and making a low whining noise that  _did things_  to Shaw, and she was going to combust if she didn't get to touch her immediately.

She was hardly surprised by how wet Root was when her fingers found their way between her legs, but she still inhaled sharply and then let out a long slow breath as her fingers explored Root almost leisurely. Root's head fell back against the wall, and she looked down at Shaw with hooded eyes, her fingers tightening almost convulsively on Shaw's arms when Shaw ran her thumb over her clit.

“Fuck,” Root breathed out.

“That's the idea,” Shaw agreed, and then promptly slid a single finger into her just a tiny bit, teasing her with it and taking her time to marvel at the feeling of Root, hot and silky around her as she eased her finger in further.

“Shaw–” Root's voice was commanding and made Shaw look up and away from the sight of her finger sliding slowly in and out of Root. “–I want you to fuck me.  _Hard_.”

There was no way she was arguing with that, and Shaw braced herself against the wall with one hand next to Root's head so she could get the leverage she needed to drive her finger into Root fast and hard. She quickly added a second finger and Root scraped red lines down her back and let out the most delicious moan Shaw had ever heard and she thought maybe she echoed it with one of her own even as she scraped her teeth along Root's neck and sucked a harsh mark over her pulse point. Root breathed in hard, erratic pants, little whimpers and gasps escaping her which only increased Shaw's urgency. She switched her rhythm up, slower now, but deeper and harder. Each thrust drew a high-pitched moan out of Root that made heat pool between Shaw's legs.

Root's head was still back, her eyes shut as pleasure danced across her face, and Shaw leaned in to bite down, hard, at the juncture of her neck and shoulder and then Root was trembling and clenching around her as she came.

She slumped a little as she recovered, knees weak, and Shaw held her up against the wall and continued to nose her way along her neck, pressing hard kisses along the column of her throat. It hadn't been even close to as long a time since she last got laid as it must have been for Root, but it had been long enough that she let herself indulge a little in the taste of Root's skin.

“Sameen–” Root's eyes fluttered open, and she grinned, all silly and sluggish from her orgasm. “–so which works better for you: blowing out brains with a shotgun or banging my brains out against a wall?”

Shaw rolled her eyes. “I can think of a lot better uses for your smart-ass mouth right now.”

The grin stayed on Root's face the whole time it took for them to switch places and for her to sink to her knees in front of Shaw and tug her pants down past her knees.

Root took her time, sucking marks onto the insides of Shaw's thighs and scraping her nails down her legs. Shaw wove her fingers into Root's hair and yanked softly on it from time to time which Root seemed to really like. Shaw let out a noise somewhere between pleasure and relief at the first touch of Root's tongue and tugged her in closer so she could grind against Root's face while she ate her out. Root was way too damn good with her tongue than she had any right to be after being out of practice for so long, but Shaw wasn't going to complain about that at all. Root slipped two fingers into her and fucked her hard and fast while she played with her clit with her mouth and Shaw tumbled over the edge much faster than she'd expected.

Root had climbed back to her feet when Shaw opened her eyes and was watching her face closely from only an inch away, her expression lazy and pleased.

“Hope I didn't wear you out already,” she purred. “We’re going to be stuck here all night.”

“Not even close,” Shaw said, slightly indignant.

She spared a thought for Reese then. She really hoped he was okay, but she also hoped that wherever he was he wasn't going to move soon. Definitely didn't need him showing up right now.

“Move.” She pushed Root off of her and pulled her pants up enough that she could walk without tripping (though she didn't bother with the belt).

Root watched her curiously as she fished around in her pack and unrolled some camping blankets across the floor.

“Bedtime already? I thought you were–”

Shaw shook her head in exasperation. “I'm not lying down on the floor here, okay? Now take your goddamn pants the rest of the way off and come here.”

She sprawled on her back across the blankets and watched as Root shed the rest of her clothes and came to stand next to her on the blankets, looking curious. Shaw yanked on her ankle and tugged at her until she got the idea and lowered herself to straddle just above Shaw's hips, her wetness pressed against Shaw's stomach.

“What now?” Root asked, rolling her hips to grind against Shaw's abs in a way that made Shaw's breath stutter out.

“Here.” She pulled on Root's hips until she slid further up her body, understanding dawning on her face.

“Guess there  _are_  good ways to get eaten during the zombie apocalypse after all,” Root mused as she lowered herself over Shaw's face.

Shaw groaned at that and buried her face between Root's legs, set on making her yell herself hoarse to spare the world from anymore dumb puns.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

“I think I figured out why She sent me there,” Root said some time later. She sat near where Shaw was sprawled out, drinking in how peaceful and relaxed she seemed now.

“Who sent you where?” Shaw had pulled a blanket up over her waist, to ward off the cold air. Things had gotten pretty hot and sweaty there for a while, but now they were both cooling off and the chilly fall air was becoming a problem.

“The Machine. She sent me coordinates in the woods that day. I thought I was supposed to find something for her, like that briefcase we found today.”

She ran one hand along Shaw's arm, fingers tracing along the length of a scar. Shaw's eyes flickered open and she watched Root's hand, but she didn't stop her.

“Why did she send you there then?”

“For you to find me.”

Shaw looked up at her, a slight frown creasing her forehead, and Root hurried to continue her thought.

“I think She wants us to work together on something, though whether that's on these numbers you get or finding more of those–” She waved a hand at the briefcase in the corner of the loft. “–I'm not sure.”

Shaw was quiet for a minute, thinking that through.

“Can't you just ask her?”

Root took her hand away from Shaw's skin and picked at one of her nails.

“She...can't always answer me. She's quiet more often than not now.” It was too quiet without Her.

“Samaritan?” Shaw’s eyes slid shut again and Root fought down the urge to run her fingers through her hair, and pet her like a sleepy cat.

“She's hiding from it. She puts herself in danger every time She talks to me, and I think that's only gotten worse lately.” And definitely worse near the cities where Samaritan was strongest. It also made it much, much easier for Samaritan to find Root, but that was less important to her.

“Root?” Shaw opened one eye to look at her.

“Yes, Shaw?”

“What's in the briefcase?”

Root looked over at the plain black box again.

“I'm not completely sure, but I have a good guess.” She grabbed one of the other blankets and wrapped it around herself. “When Samaritan came online, She had to run and hide and She ended up compressing a lot of Her data and only transferring the core pieces to...somewhere safe.”

“The briefcases have computer parts in them then?”

“Not exactly. Drives or tapes or some other long-term data backup in them most likely. She lost a lot when She hid, and some of it is stuff She can rewrite with enough time and power, but some of it She can't.”

“Power,” Shaw echoed. “Where does she even get power from? And how can she help you way out here if she's hidden on some server farm in the middle of nowhere.”

“I don't know.” Though she had some suspicions.

Shaw sighed and sat up. “So you're saying you want to stick around after all? Help us out with the numbers?”

“Until She tells me otherwise.” She tried to read Shaw's reaction, but her face gave away nothing. “That is, unless you mind.”

Shaw shook her head. “Reese is going to  _love_  this.” A tiny smile curled on her lips.

Root relaxed a little. “It’s...I'm not sure how helpful I can be in the city. I have to avoid anywhere that might have cameras or microphones or Samaritan agents. They're  _very_  invested in finding me.” She almost reached for her ear again, but stilled her hands in her lap.

“We'll figure something out.” Shaw got up, the blankets falling to the ground around her, and stretched.

Root ran her eyes up Shaw's form, perfect and glowing in the dim light cast by the camping lantern. She was a little disappointed when Shaw started pulling her clothes back on, but it was cold enough that she hurried to follow suit.

It was still the middle of the night, and they were both exhausted, so they properly laid out blankets and sleeping bags this time, close but not touching, and settled down. After all these years on the run, sleeping in her clothes felt natural to Root. This way she could get away fast if trouble found her.

“How's your shoulder?” Shaw asked from where she lay nearby.

She’d definitely whacked it painfully a couple times during all their activities, but she'd been far enough gone that it had mostly felt good.

“Not rotting off anytime soon, I think.”

Shaw gave an amused snort and then fell silent. A few minutes later her breathing evened out and Root knew she was asleep.

She was exhausted herself, but she didn't think she was going to be able to sleep. Too much had happened too quickly in the past two days, and her mind was buzzing with it all, trying to sort and process and analyze all of it.

She ended up quietly slipping out of her blankets and retrieving the briefcase from the wall. She hurried back to her blankets to escape the cold and held the case in her lap, running her fingers over the combination lock again and again.

“I'm going to find the rest of them,” she said, voice barely a whisper. “And I'm going to save you and then you're going to save all of us.”

She was curled up around the case, sound asleep, when Shaw found her in the morning.

* * *

 

“I think this is as good as we're going to get,” Shaw said. She had a pair of binoculars pressed to her face and was lying on her stomach trying to angle herself so she could see out the door below. “Still a bunch of them out there, but not nearly as many as last night.”

“We could wait another day to be safe.” Root definitely wasn't opposed to the thought of having another round with Shaw in the loft, even if she did feel a bit sore this morning.

“Reese might not have another day if he's stuck out there.” Shaw got up and tucked the binoculars back in her bag.

“You think he's still alive out there?” Root had figured he hadn't survived the initial rush.

Shaw shrugged. “Reese is a lot cleverer than you give him credit for. And really stubborn.”

Root still didn't get why Shaw put up with him, but if she was going to be hanging around for a bit maybe she'd find out.

She went down the ladder first, Shaw covering her from above with a handgun. Nothing stirred when her feet touched the ground and she couldn't see any zombies directly outside the door so she nodded up at Shaw.

Once both of them were on the ground, Shaw pulled her hammer out and motioned for Root to follow her.

Nothing attacked them when they left the building, but they could hear things moving out in the trees. Shaw took the lead and Root followed her as quietly as she could, machete gripped tightly in one hand. They picked their way carefully back to the clearing they'd been in the previous day. There were four of the things there, bent over something on the ground, feasting. For a second she thought that maybe Shaw had been wrong about Reese after all, but then she saw the brown fur. A deer.

Shaw made eye contact with her and jerked her head to indicate Root should follow her again. They moved around the edge of the clearing, trying not to step on and leaves or twigs that would give them away. They'd almost made it past when one of the zombies’ heads snapped up and its white vacant eyes turned to stare at them. It opened its ruined jaw and let out a high-pitched inhuman shriek that echoed through Root’s bones and made her blood run cold.

“Shit,” Shaw said quietly, and then all four of the creatures were dragging themselves to their feet and running at them.

Root’s instincts kicked in and she dropped everything but her machete so she could grip it with both hands. The first zombie to reach her stumbled forward under her swing and barreled into her. Her back slammed into a tree and she grappled with it, overwhelmed by the stench of death as its rotting yellow teeth snapped at her inches from her face.

She kicked its knee, sharply, and, when it collapsed, sliced through its decaying skull with her blade. It fell aside but there was another one right behind it.

She was dimly aware of Shaw fighting more of them a few feet away, but she didn't have time to focus on that with another zombie coming for her. She didn't make the same mistake twice, and made sure her first swing connected solidly with its head. In the clear for the moment, she turned to check on Shaw.

One of the other two zombies was on the ground, its head almost separated from its body, but the second one had gotten in a lot closer and Shaw was fighting to hold it off, her arms straining. Root thought she was winning the contest, but she wasn't going to take that chance. Her blade bit deep into the zombie’s head and the zombie collapsed and fell to the ground.

Shaw brushed herself off. “Thanks.”

“Well, I owed you one.”

Shaw shook her head. “That's not how this works, Root. We need to move.”

A sound from behind her made both of them turn towards the source.

Another zombie, less rotten then the others had been, stood in the trees behind them opening and shutting its jaw as it stared them down. Root tensed up, ready for it to charge, and saw Shaw do the same and then…

And then the zombie’s head basically exploded in a cloud of blood and brain and its body slumped and fell over.

Reese stepped out from the trees, his ridiculous mace held in one hand.

“You two need to be more careful,” he said. “It's dangerous out here.” The hint of a smile showed that he was joking.

“You're late.” Shaw lowered her hammer. “Missed out on most of the fun.”

“Yes, there was definitely a lot of fun while you were gone,” Root agreed, unable to stop herself.

Shaw shot her a  _look_  and Root smiled and turned away to gather up the things she’d dropped.

"I spent the night up in a tree," Reese said, "so I'm glad someone had fun. Where'd you two end up?"

Shaw was suddenly focused on wiping zombie guts off her hammer on the leaves on the ground. "Hid up in the second story of that building. Waited til daylight to come down. Pretty boring stuff."

Root smirked and winked at her when Reese wasn't looking, and Shaw rolled her eyes.

“She's coming with us?” Reese asked as they set off back towards where they'd left the car.

“Seems that way,” Shaw said. “We're gonna help her save the world or some shit.” She walked close enough to Root that their elbows bumped from time to time. It was strangely reassuring.

“Sounds good to me,” Reese said agreeably. “As long as she doesn't point a gun at me again.”

“Think we're past that.” Shaw looked up at her and must have liked whatever she read in Root's expression because she nodded in approval. “Let's head home.”

Root stumbled a little at the word and almost fell. Shaw's arm shot out to steady her.

“Watch where you're going, would you?”

“Sorry, sweetie, but I only have eyes for you.” She said it quietly enough that Reese couldn't hear, but Shaw still stiffened a little and glanced over at him. She turned back and glared at Root, but Root thought that maybe she also looked a little pleased.

Root redoubled her grip on the briefcase and moved a little closer to Shaw as they made their way back to safety. For the first time in five years she felt something that she thought might have been hope.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The world building for this AU came mostly from me trying to figure out how I could have Shoot bang in a post-apocalyptic world and have it be at least somewhat hygienic...not kidding. I was like well guess there might need to be some remaining civilized areas that have things like running water and soap oh wait I can have that be where Shaw is and maybe Samaritan is running the remaining cities and....so on and so forth. So really none of this would have gotten written if it weren't for that. I consulted with one of my friends who'd written a zombie au for a different fandom and she agreed that this was a major problem that came up in this type of au. Fic writer problems.
> 
> Bear was supposed to have more to do in this, but I couldn't think of a good way for him to go along on their mission in the woods considering how it turned out. He got to stay home and nap.
> 
> Like I said at the beginning, I'm open to possibly writing more in this AU if there's interest.


	3. The Subway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to write more. Not sure how much more though. Definitely planning to write another chapter since this one has a lot of set up for it.
> 
> Explicit content is marked off by the triple lines. There's some T-rated sexy times earlier that isn't marked.
> 
> Content includes: Typical violence against zombies. Some discussions of dark enclosed spaces if that sort of thing bothers you.

“Here.” Shaw pushed the door open and waved a hand at the small, empty room on the other side.

Root peered in, the curiosity on her face quickly changing to confusion. “It's a very nice hole in the wall, but I'm not sure why you're showing me.”

In their short time together, Shaw had figured out that Root was incredibly clever, and definitely a smug asshole about that, but that she was also really dense about the weirdest things–like there were huge blind spots in her view of the world, most of which revolved around herself.

“We were using this room for storage, but Reese cleaned it out when we got back.”

“I'm glad you've found a use for the big lug, but what does that have to do–”

“I want my bed back, so this is your room now.” Both nights Root had been there, Shaw had slept curled up with Bear in the arrangement of pillows and blankets that served as his dog bed, which was surprisingly comfortable, but not a long term solution.

Root stared blankly at the room.

“I get a room?”

“If you're sticking around, you need somewhere to sleep.”

“Yes, of course.” Root looked completely lost.

“So, uh, make yourself at home, I guess. Can steal you some furniture later or something.” She turned and left, feeling a bit weird about Root's reaction to all of this. Had Root thought they were going to share or something? The night out in the woods had been fun, and Shaw was definitely down for revisiting that, but that didn't mean Root got to move in with her or anything silly like that.

Reese was out in the main room sitting at the table and looking disgruntled. He'd been looking that way a lot since they'd found Root.

“What'd she do this time?” Shaw asked.

Despite the fact that Root had spent the majority of the time since their return last night asleep, she'd still managed to get on Reese’s nerves at every available opportunity.

“My crossword puzzles. All of them. In _pen_.”

Reese had several books of crossword puzzles he'd stolen from various abandoned bookstores, his way of staving off the tedium of being stuck in a basement most days.

“Did she get them all right?”

“That's not the point.”

Yeah, she'd totally gotten them all right.

For the first day or two, Root avoided her own room, only retreating there to sleep at night in a corner in her sleeping bag. Reese managed to scavenge a folding cot from god knows where for her which Shaw figured would be at least slightly more comfortable, but she still spent no time in her room except when she was asleep.

And she slept a lot. It was like she was sleeping off years of exhaustion, which, Shaw realized, maybe she was. She wondered when the last time was that Root had been able to sleep soundly without having to keep one eye open for danger.

Shaw watched her as discreetly as she could manage those first few days, curious at the peculiarities she found. There were small things that Root did that were slightly...odd. The first time Shaw dumped a plate of food in front of her, Root had stared at the fork balancing on the dish like she'd never seen one before and then picked it up and turned it over and over in her hand, as if trying to find a comfortable way to hold it.

Reese had gotten her some basic necessities, which included a pair of pajamas that were made for someone much larger than she was, but Shaw was fairly sure Root still slept in her clothes every night. Even her shoes. The one time Shaw opened her door a crack to spy on her, she'd found that Root was sleeping under the bed rather than on it.

And she talked to herself constantly (Or maybe to the Machine. Or maybe both), muttering under her breath while she paged through a faded magazine she'd found somewhere. None of the little bits and pieces of it that Shaw picked up were about anything important, but instead just a running commentary on whatever she was reading or looking at. Usually a rather sarcastic and condescending commentary, much to Shaw's amusement.

Root was clearly restless, almost excessively so, pacing up and down the confines of the basement, and Shaw wondered if she'd ever stayed in one place for any length of time in the last five years. After being out in the open for so long, the basement must have felt like a prison. But the threat of Samaritan hung over her. If she went outside, she might be recognized by one of the many cameras that were basically everywhere in the city, or spotted by a Samaritan agent.

It was a problem, one which Shaw hadn't figured out a solution for yet, and one which Root was absolutely no help with. It wasn't that they hadn't been talking, but it had all been very careful and distanced. Not only had there not been a repeat of the loft, but Root had disengaged from any attempts to start longer conversations. She still flirted and stared and casually touched Shaw whenever they were close, but there was no move past that and anytime the conversation turned to the Machine or Root's situation, she bailed.

On the fifth day of Root's stay with them, Shaw cornered her when she came out of the shower. She was still wearing the same jeans and t-shirt that she'd had with her when they’d found her (since she'd refused all offers of new clothes), and toweling her hair dry.

“Told you not to get the bandage wet,” Shaw said by way of greeting.

“I thought you were all in favor of personal hygiene, Shaw.”

“Now I have to change it. Medical supplies are hard to come by these days, you know.”

Root paused her hair drying long enough to smirk at her. “Are you sure that's not just an excuse to get my shirt off again?”

Shaw didn't bother to respond, and headed back to her room, not waiting to see if Root followed. She might not have Root fully figured out yet, but she was fairly certain Root wouldn't be able to pass up an invitation to come into her room and take her clothes off.

When she finished pulling her full medical chest out from under her bed, she turned to find that, sure enough, Root was leaning against the doorframe, her wet hair dripping on her shirt.

Shaw motioned at the bed. “Shirt off. Sit.”

She failed to be surprised when Root chose to take her shirt off before turning around to sit on the bed and hey, she wasn't going to protest the view. She did, however, shut the door since Root hadn't bothered to. Reese might be out for a few hours, but he could always come back early and have another gentlemanly panic attack at Root wandering around topless.

“I've been thinking about your problem,” Shaw said as she peeled off the wet mess of bandages on Root's shoulder.

“Which one?” Root peeked back over her shoulder, a teasing smile on her lips, and Shaw tsked in annoyance when the motion made Root's hair get in the way of her work.

“Being stuck down here because of Samaritan.”

“It's only until She tells me what to do next.”

This was more than Shaw had gotten out of Root all week. Maybe she'd just needed to get Root topless in her bed to get her to talk.

“And when will that be?”

The Machine still hadn't broken her silence, since it was apparently harder for her to communicate safely with Root when she was in the city, but she theoretically could have sent her something via the cranky printer she used to send Shaw and Reese numbers. Root had examined the printer closely, but hadn't found anything unusual about it, and it hadn't printed out anything at all in the time she'd been here.

“She'll contact me when She can.” Root's tone was defensive.

“And what if she doesn't?”

Root’s shoulders hunched a little more. “I’ll go find Her.” She sounded uncertain.

“Are you sure she didn't send you here because she knew she couldn't talk to you anymore and wanted you to be safe somewhere?”

Root didn't answer, but huddled further in on herself. It occurred to Shaw that maybe she wasn't being very tactful here.

Dealing with people was such a pain.

“I think I can get you out and about it the city safely for a few hours,” she said, hoping to move past the awkwardness. “Interested?”

Root looked back at her again, something like curiosity in her eyes. “How?”

“You'll see.”

That got a small frown out of Root. She really didn't like not knowing things.

Shaw finished taping the new bandage to Root's shoulder. “Next time you take a shower, let me know first and I'll put something over it to keep it dry.”

Root’s eyes flicked down to the sheets and then back up. “Am I allowed to say thank you to my doctor now?”

“Uh, sure. You're welcome or whatever.”

Root’s lips twitched. “Not what I meant, Shaw.” And she turned far enough that she could grab the front of Shaw's shirt and tug on it to pull her down.

This definitely hadn't been how Shaw had seen her day going, but Root's lips were soft and insistent against her own and Shaw let herself be pulled down into the bed on top of her. The next few minutes were a mess of limbs and shifting around in the small bed to get situated, clothes getting discarded along the way.

It was less urgent than the loft had been. Root took her time exploring every inch of Shaw's body and reduced her to a strung-out mess before she got serious, and in return Shaw decided to find out how long she could keep Root just at the edge, desperate and demanding, before she let her come.

Afterwards they lay, exhausted, in a tangle of limbs on the small bed. Shaw was aware that she should probably kick Root out before she got the wrong idea and tried to snuggle up to her or something equally horrifying, but she ended up passing out before she could even try and, when she woke up a bit later, Root was already up and pulling her clothes back on.

“Tell me more about this plan to get me outside for a few hours,” Root said as she tugged her pants on.

Shaw got up to hunt for her own clothing. “Easier to show you.” Out of the corner of her eye she watched Root pulling her shirt on. “And if we're going today it's gotta be soon.”

“Can't say I had any pressing plans for the day.” Root turned to shamelessly watch Shaw pull the last of her clothes on.

“Then go grab a weapon and meet me in the main room.”

Shaw spent some time rummaging around in the box of clothes under her bed which was full of stuff she didn't usually wear but felt might come in handy someday. The apocalypse had turned them all into hoarders. She found what she was looking for and headed out to meet Root

“Put this on.” She tossed her find to Root: an oversized tan long-sleeve shirt with a huge hood. It was a bit ripped up in places, but the hood could be tugged down enough to help hide Root's face.

“Not really my color,” Root said, eyeing her new shirt with distaste. She’d been wearing the black hoodie she'd taken from Shaw, and, while she pulled on the new shirt without too much complaining, Shaw had to wait for her to secure the stolen hoodie back in her room before they left.

“Some ground rules,” Shaw said when they reached the bottom of the stairs up to the street. “Follow me, stay quiet, don't wander off, keep your head down as much as possible. I'll try to keep us away from cameras, but it's never a sure bet. Got it?”

Root nodded, eyes fixed on the stairs. Shaw figured she'd have agreed to anything to get out of the basement.

“Hood up,” she reminded her as they neared the top of the stairs.

Getting Root to and from the boat on the pier before hadn't been a big issue. The large stretch of basements that Shaw and Reese had turned into their home weren't too far from the Hudson river, the western border of Manhattan. They'd laid out a secure route to and from the pier years ago–one that kept them away from Samaritan’s gaze–but going elsewhere in the city undetected was trickier, and being undetected for too long was, in itself, suspicious activity.

“Stay on this side of the street,” Shaw warned as she set off down the sidewalk.

It would never stop being odd to her how empty New York was now. There was still a massive population crammed in the city, but it was only a fraction of what it once had been, and most of the population had moved into the center of the city, distrustful of the bridges and water.

The city could have looked worse, Shaw supposed. Samaritan did a decent job of keeping things clean, but there were still broken windows in most buildings and abandoned cars cluttering the roads.

“Is this you grand plan? Have me wear a hood?” Root asked in a stage whisper.

“No. Be quiet.”

They made it about half a block before Root spoke up again. “Why are the streets here paved with...cobblestones?”

Shaw glanced at the road. They weren't exactly cobblestones, but close enough. “Historic district or some shit. Never repaved the roads. One of those areas that they wanted to keep the, uh, authentic feel to when it got gentrified.” She shrugged. “Not really a popular location anymore. Probably the first time in years Manhattan has been affordable.” She came to a stop next to a set of metal doors in the sidewalk up against a building. “This is us.”

She pulled one of the doors up and open to reveal a staircase leading down.

Root raised an eyebrow. “You sure know how to show a girl a good time, Shaw.”

“Thought I said to be quiet.” She started down the stairs before Root could say anything else.

* * *

 

A few weeks ago Root had thought she'd have done just about anything to have somewhere safe to sleep for a few nights, but a couple of days of confinement to a cramped basement and she was ready to be out in the woods again.

Even though the basement was about as safe as anywhere could be for her these days, it made her uneasy. There was only one way in or out and to her that meant the whole place was a deathtrap. Manhattan was, theoretically, zombie free (at least on the surface), but years of survival instincts weren't going to go away on their own.

Having Reese alternating between suspicious scowling and unnerving attempts at civility only further increased her discomfort. Shaw was the only worthwhile thing in the whole basement (well, maybe the dog, too; he was growing on her), and she didn't seem to know quite what to do with Root. Complete isolation had been preferable to this awkward cohabitation and so when Shaw had offered her the chance to get out for a few hours, she’d jumped at it.

But now they were back underground in a dusty basement a few long blocks from the one she'd been trapped in and she was starting to wonder if claustrophobia was a thing that could be developed spontaneously because it felt like the ceiling and walls of the place were pressing down on her and that the air was too thick with dust to breathe properly and….

“Here.” Shaw had stopped in front of a thick tarp on the floor in a corner. “Stand back.”

Root struggled to find something to say– a joke, a taunt, anything–but all she managed was to come to a halt and silently watch Shaw pull the tarp away to reveal a hole in the ground. She peered down into the darkness below.

“Bit of a drop, so watch yourself,” Shaw said. She sat down on the edge of the hole and then dropped into the darkness without hesitation.

Root stood there for a few seconds, wondering if she could find her way back to the pier on her own. She could be out of this city in an hour and never look back.

“You coming or what?” Shaw called up. There was a faint glow of light from the hole in the floor now.

Root gave a resigned sigh and gingerly sat down on the edge, letting her legs dangle. Below she could see Shaw waiting for her with a flashlight, impatient. The drop wasn't too far and Root managed to land almost gracefully, the ankle she'd twisted a week ago now only twinging slightly at the impact.

“How do we get back out?” she asked Shaw as she brushed herself off.

Shaw pointed the flashlight beam at a ladder on the side of the room in reply.

“Wouldn't it be more useful if the ladder was propped up so you could climb down it, too?”

Shaw shrugged. “Someone finds a dark hole in the ground in the basement, they're probably not going to jump in. If there's a ladder, though, that says humans use the place and then maybe they get curious and go exploring.”

“And where exactly are we?” The area they'd dropped into looked like it might have been some kind of storage room at some point, but Root couldn't tell much else about it. What was this far underground?

“Come see for yourself.” Shaw opened the only door and headed out, leaving Root with the options of following her or staying by herself in the darkness. She hurried after Shaw.

“Oh.” She stared at where they'd come out. “But I thought they'd all been collapsed or sealed off?”

“They have been. As far as Samaritan knows anyway.” Shaw let her light play over the walls of what must have once been a bustling subway station. Below the platform they were on, the tracks lay cold and unpowered. “Reese and I dug our way into this place a few years ago. Had to, uh, clear out the new residents and then seal up some tunnels, but now we've got a few stretches of subway tracks to ourselves.”

“The residents. Lovely.” She'd heard rumours through various people she'd traded with that the New York subway lines were all overrun with zombies, and apparently the rumours had been true.

“Took us months to make the place safe.” Shaw hopped down off the platform onto the tracks below. “The rats moved back in after the corpses left, but they don't try to bite much by comparison.”

“City life sounds _so_ glamorous.” Root wrinkled her nose in distaste at the entire situation and then jumped down after Shaw because what other option did she have at this point?

“Oh, here.” Shaw passed her a second flashlight and Root restrained herself from asking _why_ she hadn't given her it back when they first came down here. Still, she felt a little better with the extra light.

“We're not going too far,” Shaw said as she started down the tracks. “And this way may not smell the best, but it's better than having Samaritan find you.”

Root remembered the Samaritan agents out in the woods, the needle they'd stuck in her arm. “I see your point.”

‘Not too far’ was still far enough that the tunnels got on Root's nerves, as did the silence.

“So, Shaw…” She glanced sideways just in time to catch Shaw rapidly looking away from her. Root held back a smirk. “How did you and Conan the barbarian go from working for the ISA to getting numbers off a printer in a basement in the village?”

“The Machine didn't tell you all that?”

“She didn't tell me much about you at all. She suggested I look over your file about, oh, three months before all this started, but She didn't tell me why.” Root wasn't going to mention that she'd looked over Shaw's file quite a few times on her own before that and had deliberately saved a copy for herself.

“Any idea why she'd do that? Not like she could know what was going to happen this far into the future, right?”

“I don't think so, but I know better than to underestimate Her.” Had the Machine been...setting her up with Shaw? Surely not. “You were both still in the ISA when the panic broke out, right?”

“Yeah, though we were both, uh, thinking about moving onto something else at that point. Things had been...different for a few months and neither of us much liked it.”

“That’s because the ISA switched from working with the Machine to working with Samaritan.” It had taken a while for the impact of Samaritan’s birth to be felt widely. It had started out subtlety enough, but then it had begun interfering and manipulating and toying with humanity like a child killing ants with a magnifying glass.

“Is that what happened? Huh. Guess that makes sense.” Shaw’s forehead creased in thought and she stared out across the dark tracks for a few seconds before continuing. “We were going to disappear after our last mission, which happened to be here in the city. Then everything went down and it was a mess and we got stuck here when they shut down the tunnels and bridges.”

“I'm surprised you two didn't shoot your way to freedom.”

“I, uh, I got hurt. Badly. Reese found us somewhere safe to hide until I got better. By then it was clear that inside the city was safer than outside, so we stayed.”

Root thought about the scars she'd seen all over Shaw's body earlier. There had been a twisted mess of scar tissue along one of her collar bones. Could that have been the injury? Or maybe it was the nasty scar that ran along the outside of her left leg.

Shaw continued, unaware of her speculations. “Found the basement and stole a boat. Started scouting out the outside world, learning about those things, how to kill them. Then one day the damned printer we'd never bothered to unplug starts spitting out missions. We weren't quite sure what to think. Maybe someone in the ISA was still alive? Didn't make much sense though. Most of the population was wiped out, so why bother saving individuals?”

“You still tried to save them though.” It was one of the many things Root didn't understand. Because there was no reason for Shaw and Reese to risk themselves for some nobodies who would probably wind up dead anyway.

“Yeah, well, what else were we going to do? The part they always leave out of apocalypse movies is how damned boring it gets.”

“You risk your life for strangers because you're bored?”

“You’ve been in that basement less than a week. Imagine spending months trapped in this place. Boring doesn't begin to cover it.”

“Hmm, good point. I guess I've had the opposite problem: too much excitement.”

Shaw snorted, amused. “You certainly seem to attract trouble.” Root saw her glance sideways at her again. “How, uh, how did you manage out there for so long? Even with an AI it couldn't have been easy.”

Root froze when she heard something skittering around off on the other set of tracks to her right. Shaw stepped around her to shine her light towards the noise.

“Just rats.”

Root nodded, willing her heart to stop hammering. She really disliked being down here.

“I moved around,” she said as they started walking again. “Didn't stay anywhere too long. I learned about the zombies pretty quickly, how they hunted, what drew their attention, where they were most likely to show up. And She could tell me what areas to avoid and gave me all the knowledge She was accumulating from people everywhere about them.”

“The Machine is the ultimate authority on undead then? Guess that'd be useful.”

“She likes to be helpful.” Root wouldn't even try to explain how much the massive death toll had affected Her. Personally, Root had never given a fuck about humanity, but the Machine had been unbelievably upset and guilty when the dead had started rising and had only gotten more so as the death count climbed. Root might not have cared about all the dead, but she'd definitely cared about how distressed the Machine had been.

“You never stayed anywhere at all? Like not even for a week or two?” Shaw's voice brought her back to the conversation.

“I stayed in one town for a month once, when I was recovering from that scar on my back, but that was the longest stay by far. Otherwise? A week at the very most in one area and I almost never slept in the same place twice.”

“Didn't you ever want to stop running? Find somewhere safe to hole up?”

“There isn't anywhere safe left for me.” Even Shaw's basement was only a temporary haven; sooner or later Samaritan would come for her again.

“Maybe. But you're not dead. Five years and you're still alive. That's something anyway.” Shaw shone her light up ahead. “Here's the station.”

Root hung back half a step as she followed her, her throat a little tight for some reason she couldn't explain. When she caught up, Shaw had hoisted herself up onto the platform of the subway station they'd made it to. She turned back around to offer Root a hand up. The platform was quite high and Root had to grab the edge with her other hand on the way up, sending a burst of pain through her hurt shoulder. She twisted and almost fell backwards, but Shaw somehow hauled her the rest of the way up and they overbalanced, ending up in a heap on the subway platform, Root pinning Shaw under her.

“Well, this is cozy.”

Shaw shoved her. “Get up.”

Root leaned down over her, as if to kiss her, and Shaw froze, her rush to shove Root off forgotten. Root pulled away at the last second with a smirk and picked herself up.

“I hope wherever this is it's worth the trip,” she said as she watched Shaw get up and brush herself off.

The ghost of a smile flashed across Shaw's face in the dim light. “Think you're going to be impressed.”

“You're the only thing in five years I've seen that's been remotely impressive, so it'll have to be something good.” She took a few steps towards where she thought the exit must be but paused when she didn't hear Shaw behind her. She turned to find Shaw glaring furiously at a wall.

“Sameen?”

“Uh, yeah, this way.” Shaw brushed past her and led the way out of the dark.

* * *

 

“It's….”

“Impressive, right?”

“...overwhelming.”

Shaw had gotten them out of the subway into another basement and from there they'd briefly gone outside and around a corner into what looked like an abandoned building. There'd been a man, armed to the teeth, watching the inside door, but he must have known Shaw because he'd exchanged a nod with her and let them pass through a pair of double doors and into what must have once been a theater.

The entire auditorium had been transformed into some type of market, full of bright colors and enticing smells. Even the stage and the balcony above were full of tables and booths where people displayed various wares.

It was more people closer together than Root had run into over several years combined and it made her skin crawl just a little.

“Thought since you turned your nose up at all the clothes we had to offer you could pick out your own. And whatever other stuff you needed.” Shaw fidgeted with one of the straps on her pack. “Don't have to stay if you don't want.”

“You...brought me clothes shopping?” Root was unable to hold back the huge smile. “Sweetie, that’s adorable.”

“Your clothes are falling apart. One day your shirt is going to disintegrate and Reese will get whiplash in his misguided attempt to turn around fast enough to preserve your modesty. That's the only reason we're here.”

Root was fairly certain that was an outright lie, but she let it go. “The reason I didn't take any of the clothes...I don't like owing anyone anything. I'm used to taking care of myself.” If she owed someone, that made it harder to move on.

“That's not how this works,” Shaw said and Root remembered her saying the same thing out in the woods after Root had killed the zombie that had been after her and said it made them even. “No one gets by on their own now. Even when you were out in the wild you had the Machine helping you out; that's the only way to survive. And since she can't help you right now, you need to work with us.”

Root didn't know what to say to that.

“Just pick out some clothes, okay?”

“What about money?”

Shaw almost looked surprised. “Money is worthless, even here. It's a trade market.”

“I've got nothing to trade either.”

“Don't worry about that. Find some stuff already.”

“An all-expenses-paid shopping trip. You really know how to treat a girl right.”

She left Shaw rolling her eyes and headed towards the largest stall she could see that had clothing. There was a huge variety of clothing, from basic everyday plain shirts and jeans to what looked like designer brands. Everything appeared second hand and worn in, but still in better shape than anything she owned.

Her first sweep through the stall found her with a few shirts and one pair of pants. Shaw looked at her finds and shook her head.

“It's risky to come here too often. Get more now.”

Root took her at her word and did a much more thorough job of upgrading her wardrobe the second time through, even grabbing a new pair of shoes. Shaw must have approved of her choices this time because she went over to haggle with the woman running the shop. Root trailed behind, curious to see what Shaw was trading with. Except the woman shook her head when Shaw reached for her pack and after a quiet conversation Shaw turned away.

“Should I put these back?” Root asked.

“No, she said to take them. She, uh, Reese and I helped out her nephew a month ago. He lost a few fingers, but he’s alive.”

Root grinned. “You're a local hero. How dashing.”

“Whatever. You should look around and see if there's anything else you need.”

Root spent the next half hour poking through the various offerings of the market. She found a few more things, necessities mostly, but also a few frivolous things that she allowed herself to want. Shaw took care of the transactions, though Root noticed that quite a few of the merchants knew Shaw and refused payment. The ones who didn't, Shaw traded random stuff to: some books, a coil of wire, a pack of bobby pins, a folded cloth Root thought might have been a curtain. She'd done similar trades herself over the years when she'd ventured near human settlements, but she'd never considered that people safe behind city walls had also fallen back on a barter system.

“Who are all these people?” she asked Shaw quietly when they paused in a clear space near the side of the stage so Shaw could stash all of Root's purchases safely in her bag for the trip back.

“Folks who don't like that Samaritan wants us to rely exclusively on them for our needs. This place would get raided and everyone would get tossed out of the city to die if Samaritan found it.”

“Oh.” It had never occurred to her that anyone would rebel, even in a non-violent manner. Humans would sell each other out for the barest illusion of safety, and yet here all these people were. “Invitation only then, I take it? Why did they let me in?”

“You're with me.”

Root thought about all the merchants refusing to let Shaw pay. “All those people the Machine has you save, She really is trying to save humanity. In more ways than one.” It was too much for her to process fully right away.

“Guess she is. You ready to go yet?”

Root wasn't in any hurry to trek back through the dark subway and go back to living underground. And also… “Will John be there when we get back?”

“He probably got back not too long after we left.”

Root looked around the bustling auditorium. “Is there anywhere a little quieter around here?”

“Quieter? Why?”

Root raised an eyebrow and understanding dawned on Shaw's face.

“Seriously?”

Root just smiled suggestively and stayed silent until Shaw gave in and dragged her out a side door into a long hallway. The second room they came to had stacks of dusty furniture in it and a door that locked which was more than good enough for Root.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Shaw may have been incredulous about Root's request, but she definitely seemed into the idea when she locked the door and shoved Root up against it to kiss her. Root wasn't quite able to hold back the slight whimper when her shoulder hit the door and Shaw pulled back with a frown.

“Fuck. Sorry. Forgot about that.”

“Want to make it up to me?”

Shaw smirked and reached for Root's belt. She had Root's pants halfway down her thighs when Root interrupted her to pull her back up against her and go back to kissing her. Shaw pressed her hand over Root's underwear, the heel of her palm grinding lightly against her and Root moaned and then bit Shaw's lip hard enough to split it.

Shaw didn't seem to mind at all, and only sped up her hand against Root.

“No….ohhhh...no hand sanitizer this time, Sameen?”

“Had something else in mind.”

Shaw moved her hand away, much to Root's disappointment, and pulled Root's pants and underwear the rest of the way down to her ankles. “Lose the shoe,” she said, yanking the laces on one of Root's boots loose and waiting for her to kick it away so she could fully pull her pants off of her one leg.

Shaw sank to her knees in front of Root and urged her freed leg up over her shoulder while pressing her back more firmly against the door. Root pressed her palms flat against the door for balance and stared down at the top of Shaw's head as she leaned in to bite lightly at the inside of Root's thigh. The bite turned harsh and Root’s breath escaped her in a gasp and she threaded her hands into Shaw’s hair so she could hold her there while she pressed into the burst of pain.

Shaw pulled back and surveyed her handiwork with satisfaction before leaving a matching mark on Root's other thigh.

Root squirmed impatiently as Shaw took her time kissing and marking up the insides of both her thighs over and over. “Sameen...I thought we needed to get back before…”

Shaw cut her off by finally moving to where Root needed her and running her tongue through her in a single, hot stroke and Root moaned again and tried to pull Shaw tighter against her. Shaw's hands pinned her hips to the door to keep her still while she went to work on her, tongue and teeth teasing relentlessly, and Root pressed her heel harder into Shaw's back, trying to grind herself against her face. Her head fell back against the door when Shaw wrapped her lips around her clit and sucked hard and Root really hoped that this hallway of the building was as unused as it had seemed because she was definitely not doing a good job of staying quiet today. Shaw's tongue pressed into her and her nails dragged stinging lines down her hips and Root decided that maybe she was okay with being stuck in a basement and dragged through the subway if this was the payoff.

She didn't think she blacked out when she came, but things definitely got a little hazy for a few seconds because somehow Shaw was back on her feet, holding Root up against the door and kissing her neck while her hands squeezed Root's ass.

* * *

* * *

* * *

“I don't suppose you brought that hand sanitizer?” Root asked when she could speak again.

Shaw chuckled against her neck. “Always pays to be prepared.”

“Then let's…”

“Shaw?” a voice called from out in the hall.

Shaw pulled away from her. “What's Reese doing here?”

“Getting knocked out and shoved in a closet until we're done,” Root suggested, but Shaw wasn't listening anymore.

“There must be trouble.” Shaw grabbed her bag off the floor and shooed Root off the door enough so she could open it. “Put your pants back on and catch up.”

Root sighed regretfully in the empty room as she got dressed. Well, if John had interrupted them then he deserved to have to put up with her repaying the favor to Shaw later. Maybe they sold ear plugs at the trade market.

Though it was almost worth it for the look on John's face when she joined them in the hall. She knew she looked like a bit of a mess, still flushed and breathing hard and she was pretty sure Shaw had left some conspicuous marks on her neck, and Shaw’s hair was no longer back in a neat ponytail and her lower lip was split. Nothing suspicious to see here at all.

Reese sort of gaped at her for a minute and then looked back at Shaw who had her eyebrows raised, daring him to comment, and then he shrugged and shook his head a little. “Uh, anyway, they broke through that door again, I think. I dealt with a couple, but I'm going to need backup to get the door sealed again.”

“Goddammit,” Shaw growled. “How do they keep getting through there?”

“What happened?” Root asked, though she had a sinking suspicion.

“I was on my way through the tunnel to join you two and ran into a few friends,” Reese hefted his lightly-gore-splattered mace by way of explanation. “There's a door down there that the zombies have broken through a couple times. Thought we sealed it up good last time, but they're really damned persistent.”

“The subway tunnels we came here by are...full of zombies now?”

“Not full yet.” Shaw rummaged in her pack, pulling things out and rearranging stuff. “Need to deal with this right away.”

The idea of going back into the tunnels was bad enough. And if they were crawling with the undead now….

“You can wait here until we deal with it,” Reese offered.

“Save your chivalry for someone who needs it, Lurch.” She wasn't crazy about this whole thing, but she wasn't going to sit this out. Especially if Reese was going.

“Clip this on.” Shaw handed her a small light with a clip on the back so it could be attached to her shirt. “You'll need your hands for fighting. Let's grab a few things from the market and go deal with this before it gets worse.”

* * *

 

“This is going to be fun,” Shaw said, pouring lighter fluid over the cloth she'd tied around the end of a stick to make a torch. Fighting walking corpses in dark, confined spaces wasn't necessarily her idea of fun, but lighting them on fire sure was.

“How often do they break through this door?” Root hadn't looked enthusiastic about the whole thing, but she’d perked up when Shaw had started making torches.

“It's not always the same door,” John said. “But every few months they find a way back in. Not sure what they think is in there that's worth the effort.”

Root turned to look past them into the hole that led down into the subway. “Have you put anything at all down there? Even something that might seem inconsequential?”

Reese tossed the matches to Shaw who ignited the end of her torch and watched the blaze with satisfaction. “We don't use the rat-infested subway for storage if that's what you're asking,” she said.

“The only thing down there is the generator,” Reese agreed.

Shaw braced herself for Root's reaction to that tidbit.

“Generator. As in power. There are _lights_ down there?” There was a nasty little gleam in Root's eyes that suggested Shaw was going to be asked to explain why she'd made her trek through the dark subway earlier.

“Yeah, but fuel is scarce these days so we don't use it much,” Shaw said quickly. “Batteries are easier to come by, so flashlights are better.”

Root still looked a little annoyed, but she turned her attention to her own makeshift torch. Hopefully she took out all her frustration on the undead before they got back so Shaw didn't have to deal with it.

“I hate to say this, but I think you might have better luck keeping the undead hordes from your doorstep if you never used the generator again.”

Shaw had been halfway to the hole, but turned to look back at her. “You think they're after the _generator_?” The undead only ever seemed interested in living things, what the hell would they do with a generator?

Root shrugged. “Just a theory.”

Shaw had a lot more questions about that, but they could wait. “Let's just get this over with.”

She dropped into the hole in the floor and landed in a crouch at the bottom. Like on the other end of the line, they'd smashed a hole in the ceiling of a spare room off the main platform to give a little cover when climbing down. She held her torch aloft and headed out onto the platform.

The door in question was about halfway between the two entrances, so as soon as the other two were on the platform she jumped down onto the tracks and headed into the darkness.

The undead could see in the dark extremely well, better than they could see in daylight, so the torches giving away their position wouldn't matter much. She could already hear faint noises up ahead. She grabbed her hammer off her pack and slowed her pace.

“If you keep walking in front of me, I'm going to light your fancy jacket on fire,” Root hissed behind her.

“Stop walking behind me then,” Reese grumbled back.

“Shut up, both of you.” It was like dealing with a bunch of children. She heard an unfortunately familiar noise from the dark ahead. “It's one of the fast ones. Here they come.”

Even with the torch, the subway tracks were a maze of shadows, and she didn't see the first one until it was almost of top of them. It came hurtling out of the darkness from behind a metal support beam, arms reaching for her and white eyes glowing in the torchlight. She pivoted to put her full weight into the swing (since she only was holding the hammer with one hand now) and hit it squarely in the face with the spike on the back of the hammer. There was a satisfying crunch as its skull caved in, and she followed up by jamming her torch into its body and watching it go up in a blaze.

A second one was circling her, jaw hanging open and a low inhuman growl coming from its ruined throat. It moved in and out of the pool of light, stalking her in a way that displayed more cunning than she was used to seeing from these things. A low scraping noise from the side was her only warning before the second undead hurtled out of the darkness, yellow fingers clawing at her.

She jumped back before it could touch her and waved the torch in front of her to keep both undead at bay. She'd never seen them team up like that before and it was damned unnerving. 

They both charged her at once, perfectly in sync, but she'd been ready for that and ducked sideways, pivoting around them to stick her torch into the back of one's head. It went up in a blaze with a shriek. 

The remaining one was still running at her and while it had slowed somewhat to change direction, it was still coming in fast. But then it slowed down again, or tried to. It had too much momentum to stop and all she had to do was wait like a batter at the plate and swing her hammer into its skull.

She lit the body on fire for good measure. That moment when it had paused, there'd been something calculating in its eyes. Another new development and one she definitely didn't like.

There were sounds of fighting all around her, and she caught a glimpse of Root nearby, slicing into one of the undead with impressive efficiency. Shaw couldn't take the time to really appreciate the scene because she had her own problems to deal with.

She'd lit up her fourth corpse and spun to face the next only to find there was nothing left to attack. Reese was finishing one off nearby, and Root was watching her from nearby, her head tilted to one side like she was evaluating her.

“Let's get that door shut before more show up,” Shaw said. She stepped over the smouldering remains of her last kill and made her way to the wall where a metal door hung off its hinges, the surface of it dented like something had hit it repeatedly with great force.

“Don't know about this generator theory of yours, but they definitely were after something over here.”

Root didn't comment. She'd raised her torch to peer into the area behind the door.

“It's some type of maintenance room. Other side opens into another track system,” Shaw said. She didn't think Root was going to wander off exploring to satisfy her curiosity, but no sense in risking it.

Shaw pulled some of the goodies they'd gotten from her pack and tossed a hammer to Reese. They'd stocked up on some supplies to board the doors up again, a temporary measure until her or Reese could come down here to weld the thing shut.

They got lucky and didn't have anymore undead to deal with while they worked. She and Reese did most of the work and Root hung back, holding their stuff and watching. Whatever thoughts she had about the whole incident she seemed content to keep to herself for the moment.

“They should do it.” Shaw stepped back. It wasn't pretty, but it'd hold for a day or two, plenty of time to seal it properly. It was Reese’s turn to do that if she recalled correctly.

They wasted no time getting everything packed up and ready to go.

“You get hurt again?” Shaw asked Root as they made their way back towards the other exit.

“Why? Would you mercy kill me if I got bitten?”

“Reese and I have a deal about stuff like that,” Shaw said, exchanging a look with him. “Neither of us want to turn into that. A fast, clean death and burn the body.”

“How practical of you. And no, none of them touched me.”

“Heard a rumor there's a treatment for their bites that Samaritan has,” Reese said. “You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?”

“Sadly Samaritan has declined to let me in on their secret research.” Root's normal condescending tone towards Reese lacked its usual bite, like she was too tired to bother.

Shaw was more careful pulling Root up onto the platform this time. Reese most likely had a good idea of what was going on with her and Root after earlier, but she didn't want to have Root fall on top of her in the subway again with an audience. She just _knew_ he was going to make a smartass comment sooner or later and she was already planning her revenge for when he did.

“I think I understand why you don't leave the ladder up now,” Root said as they finally emerged into daylight. “I know they can't climb, but still.”

“It's...better to kick the ladder back down,” Reese agreed.

Finally, something they weren't going to bicker over. Shaw would have been pleased if she wasn't thoroughly over the entire day.

They were all silent for the walk back to the basement. Root disappeared to her room with her new purchases once they got in, and Shaw took her time apologizing to Bear for leaving him behind again. She'd seen Bear take down undead on multiple occasions (animals seemed to have an instinct for knowing how to destroy the things), but ladders weren’t in Bear's repertoire.

“Shaw.” Reese came out of the room in the back holding a piece of paper.

“We finally get something?” The printer had been still since Root had gotten here which meant no new numbers.

“Another weird one.” Reese handed it over.

There were a set of coordinates like usual, but the only other things on the page were a stylized “T” that Shaw had definitely seen before, and a three digit number.

“Think I know what this is about. Part of it anyway.”

Root’s door was shut so she knocked, wondering if she was interrupting her changing.

“Come in, Shaw.”

Shaw opened the door to find Root sitting on her bed, briefcase in her lap. Not changing then. Oh well.

“If I ask how you knew it was me, are you just going to look smug? Because then I'd have to shoot you and I don't think you'd like that too much.”

“Reese knocks much more politely.”

How did someone knock politely? And when had Reese knocked on her door? Maybe he'd stopped by to grumble about the cross word puzzles. She was glad she'd missed that.

“That's why he’s in charge of the people skills.”

Root smiled like she found that doubtful. “And what are you in charge of?”

“Good decisions. He's never gotten the hang of those. Something I suspect you two have in common.”

“You wound me, Shaw.”

“Pretty sure that was a Samaritan bullet.”

Root looked amused and inclined her head as if to acknowledge Shaw had won the exchange. “Is that for me?” She motioned at the paper in Shaw's hand.

“That's my guess. Think it's the code to that case. Not sure about the coordinates.”

“Me either.” Root looked over the page but seemed in no hurry to actually open the case. “Guess I'll go have a look in the morning.”

“I got some gas at the market, so we'll be good for the drive.” It would be a damn long drive though from the looks of it.

Root frowned. “You don't need to come, you know.”

“That's not–”

“–how this works,” Root finished for her. “You said.”

“Besides, it's my damn printer.” Shaw wasn't sure what that had to do with anything, but it sounded like a good excuse. “Now what's all this stuff about the generator?”

“Can I tell you on the drive tomorrow? I think I'm going to turn in early.”

“Right.” She'd sort of hoped Root would be up for continuing where they'd left off earlier and Root must have seen it in her face because she smirked and slid the case under her bed.

“I suppose I could stay up a _little_ longer.”

The good part about Reese finding out, Shaw thought, was that it was fair warning for anything he might accidentally overhear. Maybe she'd get him some soundproofing if this became a regular thing.

She didn't normally do regular things, but Root made a compelling argument that night. Several, in fact. As she slipped back to her room later (pausing only to grab some food), Shaw decided that she was willing to see where all this was going for now.

 


	4. On the Road Again

Root awoke with a start, her hand already reaching for the knife in the top of her boot as she rolled up into a crouch. Her eyes swept over the dark room, trying to find what had woken her, but the door to her room was still shut and everything was where she'd left it the previous night. Nothing stirred.

She let out a slow breath and tried to relax. Maybe sleeping in the bed rather than under it for once had been a mistake. Under the bed felt hidden and safe and that made it easier for her to fall asleep, but she'd thought maybe this could be a place where she felt safe without having to hide.

Apparently not.

She was about to go back to sleep when she heard a voice she didn't recognize coming from the next room. She tensed up instinctively, and redoubled her grip on her knife. Strangers were bad news in her experience. She made sure she was properly equipped for trouble before heading to the door.

She couldn't make out what was being said in the next room through her closed door, but she heard Reese’s voice as well as the stranger's. John's presence didn't inspire any more confidence in her of the stranger's intentions. Was Shaw out there, too?

She opened the door a crack.

“...will be back in a minute and she can explain the plan,” John was saying.

Root assumed that Shaw must be the “she” in question. But what plan?

“Why are you both being so mysterious about this? What mess have you two gotten yourselves into this time, John?” The second voice was a woman's voice that Root didn't recognize.

She slipped out into the tiny hallway that connected her room to the main room and crept to the end so she could peer around the corner and get a look at Reese and his guest.

She didn't recognize the woman Reese was talking to by sight either, but that wasn’t surprising. What she did recognize, however, was the gold badge clipped to the woman's belt. Root had her gun out and pointed before she'd thought it through.

But the woman had seen her at the exact same second and she was really damn fast, because her gun was also out, pointing right back at Root.

“What is she doing here?”

The woman sounded almost like she knew Root, which only made Root more certain that she was trouble.

“Root, what are you doing?” Reese had his hands half-raised as if to gesture at them both up lower their weapons, but he was wisely not getting in between them.

“She works for Samaritan,” Root said. She wondered how fast the other woman was. Was it worth the risk to try and shoot first?

“I'm a cop. I don't answer to Samaritan, but I've seen your face before, on a list of wanted criminals believed to be responsible for the outbreak.”

Reese frowned and Root tensed up, ready for him to go for his gun. Samaritan ran the cities so if there was a police force active then they had to report up to Samaritan. She couldn't believe Reese wouldn't be aware of that, but, even so, she didn't expect him to side with her.

“Why does this happen every time I leave for five minutes?”

Root didn't take her eyes off the the gun pointing at her, but she did feel a tiny bit of relief at the sound of Shaw's voice. She wouldn't go so far as to assume Shaw was her ally here, but she thought maybe she'd grown on her a bit in the last few days.

“Reese doesn't surprise me, but how'd you get involved in this, Carter?” Shaw moved further into the room. “Actually, nevermind. How about everyone puts their guns down and lets me eat my breakfast in peace and then we can sort out whatever the fuck this is after.”

“Your friend over there has a long list of crimes she's wanted for, Shaw.” The woman, Carter, hadn't lowered her gun at all. “Now I know Samaritan isn't above framing people for their own ends, so are you going to tell me that's what's happening here?”

Shaw stepped into Root's field of view. She looked remarkably calm for someone standing in a room full of people waving guns around, almost bored. “Root, you have anything to do with starting the outbreak?”

Root hadn't planned on explaining anything about her past if she didn't need to (especially not in front of these two), but Shaw was watching her, expression unreadable, and Root figured that Shaw at least deserved an answer.

“I had nothing to do with the outbreak. You know who I work for.”

Carter didn't look at all satisfied with her answer. “Well, I don't know who she works for. And what about all the people she’s accused of killing before that? There was quite a list.”

Shaw raised an eyebrow in question at Root.

Playing innocent wasn't going to work with Shaw and Reese here; they'd seen her try that sort of thing before. And she wasn't particularly ashamed of her past, so why should she care? “I'd have to see the list to tell you if they're all people I killed, but I'd guess most of them are.” She saw Reese’s face harden and she smiled at him. “Girl's got to make a living somehow, John.”

Shaw sighed. “Root, put Reese’s gun down. Carter won't shoot you, but we're not going to figure anything out like this.”

“Wait, that's _my_ gun?”

Root had lifted one of his guns from him on the walk back the day before as a precaution and it looked like her instincts had paid off. She didn't budge, but she did take the opportunity to smirk at John, because if she was going to get shot in a moment then better to go out on a win.

“Are you telling me the police don’t work for Samaritan, Shaw? Sorry, but I have a hard time believing that.”

“Would your...boss send us those numbers if we were working with someone who reported to Samaritan?” Shaw inched closer and held out her hand for the gun, exactly the way she had the other day.

She had a point; the Machine would never knowingly assist Samaritan and Root couldn't imagine Her sending her to people who worked with a Samaritan agent. For the second time, Root found herself lowering her gun and handing it over to Shaw. How did that keep happening? She wasn't foolish enough to believe that Shaw would protect her just because they’d been sleeping together, no matter how great the sex was, but for some reason she trusted that Shaw wasn't going to turn around and shoot her or let one of the others shoot her either.

Carter lowered her gun as well, but didn't put it away. “Want to explain how you ended up with a wanted fugitive living in your basement?” she asked. “Not like you two to bring strangers here.”

“She got shot running from some Samaritan agents.” Shaw tucked Reese’s gun away, and smirked at his outraged look. “She's mixed up in this whole mess maybe even more than we are, which means keeping her around is the smart move for now. At the moment that's all I'm interested in.”

Carter didn't look convinced, but she put her gun away.

Shaw nodded. “Good. Now let's eat breakfast.”

Breakfast was mostly quiet and full of suspicious stares. Carter must have already eaten because she only sat and watched, her arms crossed. A couple times she looked like she was going to break the silence and start asking questions, but Shaw's request that all the dramatics wait until after she'd eaten held her in check.

After they'd cleared the table, Shaw preempted any questions when she got a map out and spread it across the table. “This is where those coordinates we got will take us.” She tapped a location on the map.

“That's a lot further than we went last time,” Root pointed out. Almost twice as far, which meant...which meant maybe She'd be able to talk to Root again.

“That's why we're leaving this early.” Shaw bent over the map and drew her finger along a path of roads, mapping out the route they'd take. “Give ourselves the best chance at getting back before sunset.”

“We've got that place we can hole up in that's not too far out of the way if we get caught out late,” Reese added.

Root wondered if he was being purposefully vague because of her. He already hadn't trusted her and she could imagine that was even more true now.

“Let's try not to need that.” Shaw straightened back up. “You still in?” she asked Carter.

“I said I got your back on this one, and I do, but I still want some answers.”

“We’ve got a four hour drive ahead of us. Plenty of time for questions.”

Root opened her mouth to object; she wasn't going to take some cop along on a mission the Machine had given her without knowing for sure that Carter didn't answer to Samaritan. But Shaw caught her eye and shook her head ever so slightly.

“Guess we should all get ready to go then,” Reese suggested. Carter followed him when he left, the two of them talking quietly but urgently.

Root wasn't surprised when Shaw trailed after her to her room. She stood in the doorway while Root went through her things.

Fortunately, Shaw jumped right to the matter at hand. “Samaritan isn’t directly in control of the police. Not on paper anyway. Gives the illusion that they're not really controlling every aspect of our lives if we have our own police department. And it gives them someone to pin unpleasant shit on.”

It sounded logical enough, but Root had no illusions about who really was in charge. “Whoever is at the top of the police force almost certainly answers directly to Samaritan.”

“They do, and a lot of bad shit happens because of it, but meanwhile there's still some decent cops who are in a position to actually do some good as long as they walk a very careful line. Not usually a fan of trying to change the system from inside, but desperate circumstances and all.”

“And your friend, Carter, is one of the decent ones?” Root asked doubtfully.

“Yes. She is.” Shaw's tone left no room for argument.

Root pulled her pack out from under her bed and started sorting through it. She needed to make sure she took all the most essential stuff with her in case she needed to bail for real at the end of the mission.

“Well, thanks for not letting her shoot me, I suppose. That was…”

Shaw cut her off. “I need to know that you're not going to get people killed in whatever game it is you're playing at.” She was scowling now, and there was a slight stiffness in the way she stood.

“People? Like any people ever? Kind of a tough request given the circumstances.”

“Like the people from yesterday at the market.”

Ah, that's what this was about. Carter's unfortunate insight into Root's past must have made Shaw concerned about her morals. Which was fair, but still stung a little. “And you're worried I might, what? Sell them out to Samaritan in exchange for something? Do you think the Machine would want that after She went to all the effort to have you help them?” Another thought occurred to her. “And why take me there in the first place?”

Shaw stared at the floor and didn't answer and the uncomfortable silence hung between them for a few long seconds. Trust wasn't a thing that came naturally to Root, and she never expected it from others, and yet she didn't like the idea that any kind of progress she'd made with Shaw might have just been reversed.

“I never said I was a good person, Shaw. I'm not. But I work for the Machine and I do what She tells me, and She would never want me to endanger those people. Is that good enough for you?”

Shaw finally looked up from the floor and met her gaze. “Maybe. One question first. Why do you work for the Machine?”

There were an entire range of answers Root could have given her, some of which were even true, but somehow she knew what the right one was for this moment.

“Because She cares. About humanity, and saving people, and making the world a little less horrible for all of us. And about me.” She concentrated on the stuck zipper on her pack she was trying to fix so she wouldn't have to look at Shaw. “She shouldn't care about any of that. She's an AI, a god, something better than all of us, something that should look at this world and see how broken it is and discard it. But She didn't do that. She chose to care about all of it, about all of us. About all the things I've never cared about. She chose to care about me.”

Another silence fell though this time it felt contemplative rather than awkward. Root rechecked her gear more than was strictly necessary while she waited. She could do this without Shaw if she needed to–she'd done things on her own for years after all–but with the briefcase involved this mission felt much more important. If carrying out the Machine’s plan meant playing nice with Reese and Carter, then she could do that. And, she was surprised to realize, she wanted Shaw's help.

“Okay.”

Root looked up at Shaw's voice. “Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Hurry up and finish getting ready.” And with that Shaw departed, leaving Root to wonder what had just happened.

But she didn't have time to sort through it yet. She got changed into some fresh clothes and stuffed as much of her gear as would fit into her pack in case she didn't end up coming back to the basement after this.

When she got back out to the main room the others are already back and ready to go. Reese had his ridiculous mace again, and Carter had an enormous sword strapped across her back, the hilt poking up above one shoulder.

Root raised both eyebrows. “You know I was joking when I suggested that John had robbed a museum, but now I'm starting to think I was right.”

Carter shot an accusing look at Reese, who seemed a little chagrined but mostly pleased with himself.

“That's because they _did_ rob a museum,” Carter said and across the room Shaw chuckled. “And when I caught them trying to smuggle half of the Met’s weapons exhibit across town they didn't even try to deny it.”

“Would have been kind of hard to deny it with Reese carrying a halberd taller than him.” Shaw lazily swung her war hammer back and forth a few times. “And we apologized.”

“You tried to give me a sword. That's not an apology.”

“But it's a really nice sword,” Reese said and smiled winningly when Carter gave him a look.

The friendly bickering made Root relax in a way that the explanations earlier hadn't, but it also made her feel a little sad. Shaw and Reese and Carter had history together. They'd probably been through years of the AI and zombie apocalypse together and the trust there was obvious. Root had her relationship with the Machine, which was incredibly important and meant more to her than anything else ever had, and yet she still felt lonely watching the others.

The moment ended quickly enough because Shaw clipped a leash on Bear and headed for the door calling back “let’s go,” over her shoulder.

Root looked around the basement one last time and then followed the others up into the city.

* * *

 

“What?” Shaw returned Reese’s incredulous stare.

“You're offering to let me drive?”

“Yeah, so what?” It wasn't like he never got to drive. She'd let him drive that time a few years ago after she'd broken two toes, so this wasn't unprecedented or anything.

“Why?” Reese squinted at her, suspicion written all over his face.

Shaw stepped closer and lowered her voice. “Look, if we stick Root and Carter in the back seat together it's going to end in a bloodbath. You're too tall to sit in the back for this long a drive so that means you or Carter have to drive and I'm in the back with Root. Okay?”

It was like that damn puzzle about having to get a fox, a goose, and a bag of beans across a river with only one boat, except in this case it was fitting three armed and dangerous vigilantes and an equally armed and dangerous cop in a car. And a dog.

“Maybe they can work out their differences on the drive,” Reese said. It didn't sound like he had much hope on that front.

They both paused to look over at where Carter was stashing her weapon in the trunk. Root stood nearby and grinned in an unfriendly way every time Carter looked at her.

“Might take more than just one road trip,” Shaw said. This whole situation was damned inconvenient.

“Are you sure about Root?”

“I'm not sure about anyone most days.” She sighed at Reese’s exasperated look. “Sure how?”

“That we can trust her? She knows where our base is and where the market is and all we have is her word she works for this AI and some mysterious briefcase she won't let us open. And then there's this list of crimes she's wanted for.”

“We don't know much about anyone's past anymore. Better that way.” It wasn't that the apocalypse had given everyone a blank slate, but getting by was hard enough now without constantly being suspicious of everyone. The unspoken rule was not to ask questions and judge based on people’s recent actions, and while Root definitely read as dangerous and cunning to Shaw, neither of those were necessarily bad traits to have.

“Don't think she's been doing a lot of murdering if she's been living off the grid for five years. And I don't think the Machine she answers to would want her killing people when it's so keen on having us save them.”

Reese still didn't look convinced. “You really buy that it's an AI? And that Samaritan is one, too? It's a bit...far-fetched.”

“So are walking corpses.”

She did mostly believe everything Root had told her about the Machine’s existence. There were enough little things from over the years that made a lot more sense in that context. Also there was the way Root talked about it, or her rather. It didn't mean that Root wasn't delusional or working some elaborate con, but so far the evidence didn't suggest either of those was true.

And then there was the way Root had been curled up asleep around that briefcase the night they found it, like it was the most precious thing in her entire world. Whatever was going on, Root had a deep emotional investment in it.

Reese gave up. “I hope you're right about all this.” He walked around the back of the car to talk to Carter.

She was glad he hadn't told her to watch her back or anything dumb like that and that he hadn't brought up her and Root's extracurricular activities. He'd known her long enough to know that she didn't let that type of stuff interfere with the job (though she'd never been banging someone who was quite so involved with her work).

“He looks grumpy.” Root had moved away from the car to join her. “And my ears are burning. Do I need to worry about being ditched at the end of the drive?”

“No. Were you planning on ditching?” Shaw had seen how much stuff Root had in her pack. She could take off without a backwards glance if she wanted to.

If Root was surprised that she'd noticed, her face didn't give it away. “I haven't decided yet.”

“Don't suppose you'd give me my hoodie back before you took off.” Root was wearing it again, now underneath a leather jacket (which Shaw admitted was pretty cool) that she’d gotten at the market yesterday. Between the new clothes and semi-regular showers Root looked a lot better than she had when they'd found her out in the woods.

Not that she'd ever looked bad.

Root only smiled and gave her a pitying look, like she thought it was cute that Shaw would even ask.

Maybe she _should_ let her sit in the back with Carter after all.

“Ladies,” Reese called from the car, motioning for them to get in.

“Looks like you're stuck in the back with me,” Root said, surveying their seating options.

“Guess so.” Shaw could see Root's inquisitive stare from the corner of her eye, and she climbed in the car and slammed the door to get away from it.

Bear ended up in the back seat with them, draped across them with his head in Shaw's lap. She scratched his ears and he wagged his tail in response, smacking Root in the face repetitively.

Shaw smirked and made sure to give him a good, thorough ear scratching while Root glared and tried to fend off his happily wagging tail. Maybe riding in the back seat wasn't the worst thing ever.

Everyone was silent for the first fifteen minutes or so of the drive, but once they'd gotten out onto a larger road that was relatively free of the undead she saw Carter half-turn in her seat and she knew what was coming next.

“So, generators,” Shaw said, quickly. It came out a little too loudly and Root looked at her curiously. “You said the undead might be after the generator? The one in the subway?”

“It's just a theory.” Root was looking back and forth between her and Carter now, as if trying to figure out what was going on.

The thing was, Shaw had no interest in keeping Carter from grilling Root for all she was worth, except that Root was useful, and clever, and part of what was possibly the only chance they had of fighting back against Samaritan and Carter didn't understand that yet. Shaw just hoped Root would play along and impress Carter enough that she had something to go on that wasn't some file on Root's checkered past. Because, at least for now, what Root had to offer was more important to Shaw than whatever she'd done before.

“Theory is more than any of us had on why they kept breaking through that door, so spill.”

Root nodded. “You know how the zombies have different senses than we do, right? Like their night vision is incredibly good, and they can hear even the tiniest noises.”

“Don't seem to be able to smell much, though,” Reese added from the front.

“Thank you _so_ much for that valuable addition, John.” Root and Reese exchanged unfriendly smiles in the rearview mirror.

“You think they heard the generator?” Shaw asked, trying to keep things on track. “We did what we could to muffle it, but it does run loud.”

“Either heard or felt. The Machine and I have been trying to gather more information on all the ways zombie’s senses are different from ours. She thinks it's possible that they're very sensitive to things that emit certain types of sound or pressure waves, such as the vibrations of an engine travelling through the ground.”

“That...actually makes a lot of sense.” Shaw could think of a couple incidents that became easier to understand in light of that, times that undead had found them when they shouldn't have been able to.

“Different types of sound waves–” Carter looked back over her shoulder at Root. “–like outside the range of human hearing?”

The corner of Root’s mouth twitched, like she was surprised Carter had come up with the question. “It's possible. At first the Machine and I thought maybe they used electroreception, like how sharks can sense the electric fields generated by the nerves and muscles of their prey, but that didn't quite make sense. But a lot of the electronics they honed in on made high-pitched noises or vibrated. Not very noticeable to a human, but to the zombies….”

“Can they all do that?” Carter asked, and Shaw was relieved to see she looked engaged in the topic now.

“You mean can only the more, ah, aware ones sense extra things?” Root shrugged. “It's hard to say since they often show up in packs, but I wouldn't rule it out.”

Shaw remembered something that had been bugging her. “The undead in the subway yesterday, they coordinated an attack against me. Never seen them do that before.”

Root grimaced. “Yes, they seem to be...evolving, for lack of a better word. The fast ones were only the start. I've seen them team up to try and drive prey out into the open.”

Shaw frowned. “How can something that's dead evolve? There's nothing there to evolve.” Outside the window she watched a couple undead by the roadside turn their heads towards the car as it went by. Had they always done that? What else might they learn to do?

“I don't know.” Root sounded frustrated. “If we knew exactly what had caused it, then maybe we could find out.”

“One question.” Carter turned around more fully to look right at Root. “Who or what is the Machine you keep talking about?”

Oh, right. Shaw hadn't brought up that whole thing with Carter yet.

“Uh, so you know those rumors about Samaritan being an AI?”

Carter’s eyes narrowed. “What about them?”

It didn't take long to fill Carter in on what little they knew (since it was almost nothing) and debates about AI and Samaritan and the Machine and the ISA filled the next hour, though Root made no effort to add any new information to the discussion much to Shaw's frustration. Root _had_ to know more if she'd been working for the Machine for all these years. And how had that even started? If she’d really been some type of killer for hire the way she'd implied then how did an AI focused on saving people end up working with her?

Root had turned away from her to stare out the window, one hand pressed to the glass next to her face. There wasn't anything exciting in the area they were driving through, only some strip malls and a lot of trees, but Root was rapt with watching the world fly past. Shaw wondered if this was some side effect from being stuck in the basement, or if it spoke to some other facet of Root she hadn't fully uncovered yet.

Root's fingers were ever so slightly bent against the window, like she was trying to dig her fingernails into it, and with every exhale her breath left a little patch of the glass fogged up. Shaw watched her watch the world and wondered what it was she saw out there. Was it the past, or the possibilities of the future?

She also wondered why she cared what Root thought, and why she didn't like the idea of her taking off again.

“Shaw?”

Reese’s voice broke her out of her thoughts and she blinked a few times, realizing she'd been staring at Root's hair where she'd tucked it behind her ear. Root turned back towards her and she had the hint of a smug little smile on her face like she just _knew,_ even if there was no way she could have.

Shaw scowled at her and turned her attention to Reese. “Uh, what?”

“I said I think we may have to make that stop after all.” Reese pointed up ahead through the windshield at the dark storm clouds on the horizon. “At best that'll slow us down. At worst the car could spin out and we'll be stuck in the open.”

The stop Reese was referring to was a safe house they'd set up about an hour outside the city in case they got stuck out overnight or suddenly needed to hide from Samaritan. It wasn't fancy, but it would do in a pinch and it was better than winding up in a ditch. Their car was in decent shape, but the tires were a bit worn and taking chances out here was a good way to end up dead.

“Guess we should have googled the weather before we left,” Shaw joked.

“She always tells me when there's going to be a storm.” Root's voice was quiet enough that Shaw didn't think it carried to the two in the front seat.

“Do you think she'll be able to talk to you where we're headed?” Shaw asked.

“I hope so.” Root cautiously patted Bear on the rump and smiled a tiny bit when his tail thumped against her leg. “How far is this safe house or whatever it is?”

“About thirty minutes if I drive fast,” Reese said. He'd already sped up a bunch and Shaw wished she'd driven after all because Reese was a lot better at crashing cars than driving them.

It started to pour when they were still about fifteen minutes out and Shaw was glad they'd made the call to stop because Reese had slowed to a crawl due to low visibility. The shitty, old windshield wipers just didn't cut it with this type of downpour.

It was hard to make a house with multiple entrances secure and defensible, but having one with only one exit was even more of a danger. The small house they'd chosen as their hideout had a front and back entrance that they'd heavily reinforced and windows that they'd secured with wood and metal covers. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than nothing, and was out on its own enough to be away from the packs of undead often found in more populated suburban areas. Previously populated anyway.

They got lucky and there were only a handful of undead hanging around the house. Shaw was only slightly surprised when Root was the first one out of the car and headed straight over to engage them without waiting for the others. She was getting used to the fact that Root tended to run in without thinking things through (not unlike Reese in some ways, although she doubted either one of them would appreciate the comparison). They'd have to have a discussion about that eventually if Root stuck around; rushing in could get everyone killed.

But at the moment all she could do was hurry to join her and help deal with the last few undead. Bear even got to take one down, throwing his body weight into it to bring it to the ground. None of the undead had been the fast ones or exhibited any of the behavior Shaw had seen from the ones in the subway the day before which was kind of a relief. The last thing she needed was smart corpses attacking in the rain.

She unlocked the door while Root huddled inside her jacket with her arms crossed, soaked and miserable. The rain was only getting heavier and Shaw worried about what that would mean for the rest of this mission.

The inside of the house was a bit musty from being locked up tight, but it was dry and warmer than it had been outside.

Shaw motioned to the stairs. “There's two bedrooms on the second floor and the living room down here.” They were likely going to have to stay here overnight, even if it was still early, and the kitchen and the bathrooms weren't ideal for sleeping in.

“Dibs on one of the bedrooms,” Reese said, already heading for the stairs.

“I'll take the living room,” Carter said. “Keep an eye out for trouble.”

Root looked at Shaw through her eyelashes. “Guess we're sharing, sweetie.”

Shaw saw Carter look back and forth between them. She gave a quiet “hmph”, but thankfully didn't comment.

“I don't share.” But she didn't stop Root from following her up the stairs. She paused long enough to usher Bear into Reese’s room and shut the door after him, eliciting an annoyed “hey!” from Reese (when Bear was soaked and smelled like wet dog, he temporarily became Reese's dog).

Shaw shut the door once they were inside the small, almost empty second bedroom and immediately pulled her shirt off over her head. Root's eyes widened as she gaped at her, completely caught off guard.

“I'm not sitting around in wet clothes.” Couldn't she focus for like two seconds?

Root still hadn't moved from just inside the door by the time Shaw finished changing. She just stood there in her soaked clothes, shivering and clutching that damned briefcase to herself. She looked sort of pathetic, like a cat that had gotten stuck out in the rain.

Shaw didn't think Root was shy about undressing all the sudden, more likely she'd gotten distracted by Shaw stripping and blanked out. What a disaster. Well, she could freeze to death if she wanted to. “Come downstairs when you're ready.”

“Sameen. Wait.”

Shaw paused with her hand on the doorknob.

“Your cop friend is going to ask a lot of questions now, and I don't think you're going to be able to distract her this time.”

So she _had_ noticed that. Shaw cursed silently. “So what?”

“I'm not going to promise that I'll answer, or that I'll tell the truth if I do. I have no intention of letting myself be interrogated by some cop who I'm still not convinced isn't reporting to Samaritan.”

Shaw fought down the urge to defend Carter again. One thing at a time. “And why are you telling me this?”

“I'm giving you the chance to ask anything you want right now and get a real answer. One time only deal.”

There was a long list of questions Shaw had, but…. “Why?”

Root tilted her head to one side and smiled. “Maybe I just like you.”

Shaw snorted inelegantly.

Root chuckled. “Or maybe I want at least one of you to trust me.”

That sounded more likely. “Okay. Uh, so you killed people for a living before the apocalypse?”

“Yes. For most of my life. I was mainly a hacker, but there were a steady stream of assassinations as well.”

“What for?”

Root laughed and finally dropped her pack on the floor. “For money, of course. I never much cared for people and killing them paid well. Win-win for me.” She pulled her shirt off and Shaw looked at the scars on her back again, wondering now how many of them she'd gotten before the apocalypse.

“But you don't now.”

“No. I mean there's not much point anymore. The undead plague did a pretty thorough job putting me out of business.”

“And the Machine? What'd she think of your chosen career?” She tried not to be distracted by Root's long, pale, bare legs.

“I quit my, ah, job to work for Her. So even without the apocalypse I'd still be...reformed.”

“Okay.”

Root turned back around, still in only her underwear. “No more questions? Really?”

“Might have some later about the Machine, but about your stuff, not really. Don't much care about people's pasts. Present is more relevant.”

Root had definitely noticed Shaw's interest now because she stalked across the room towards her. Shaw retreated a step and then another and then her back hit the wall and Root placed a hand on either side of her, trapping her there.

“Is this relevant enough for you?” Root breathed in her ear.

It was a bad line even by Shaw's standards, but she wasn't going to be too picky right now. Not when Root had leaned down to let her lips brush ever so slightly over Shaw's pulse point.

“Anything you want, Sameen.” And Shaw knew she no longer meant questions.

It was a bad idea to do this right now, but she reached for Root anyway because fuck it, you took opportunities when they presented themselves in this world. Her fingers wrapped around Root's hips and danced their way up her sides and Root pressed her mouth against her neck for real now, catching just the tiniest sliver of skin between her teeth and nipping hard at it. Shaw dug her thumbs in over Root's ribs just below the edge of her bra and she could feel Root's pulse race at the touch.

But...Root's skin was clammy, and she was shivering, and her hair was wet and dripping on them both, and Shaw could hear Reese heading back down the stairs which meant it was only a matter of time before someone came looking for them. She regretfully slid her hands back down to Root's hips and pushed on her to get her to back off. When Root showed no intention of moving, Shaw half-lifted her and moved her to the side so she could get away from the wall. Root's eyes widened in surprise and then darkened again with that same hunger they'd had when she'd cornered Shaw moments before. Maybe she was into a little friendly manhandling. Good to know.

“Dry off, get changed, and come downstairs,” Shaw said again, though not without regret.

“And we'll revisit this later?” Root's voice was low and a bit rough and Shaw almost reconsidered.

“We'll see.” But she smiled at Root before she left, a quick twitch of her lips. Later sounded good.

* * *

 

Root didn't know quite what to make of Detective Joss Carter, and she suspected the feeling was mutual. On the one hand, Carter was a cop down to her bones, and Root would have recognized her as one even without the badge. But here Carter was, hanging out with a bunch of ex-government operatives and casually polishing the large sword that said operatives had bribed her with. (According to Shaw, it was called a bastard sword, though she hadn't elaborated beyond that, and Root once again missed not having Her there to fill in the details).

They'd all ended up in the kitchen--Carter with her sword lying across the island counter in the middle of the room while she cleaned it, Reese lurking in the corner, Shaw perched on another counter along the wall, and Root hovering in the doorway, ready to escape if needed. Bear had wandered in circles around the kitchen a few times before flopping down at Root's feet. She was a little touched by that, or would have been if he didn't smell like wet dog still.

Carter hadn't asked about Root's past much (and Root wondered if she had Shaw to thank for that), but she did seem set on uncovering Root's current aims, and more about the Machine, topics which Root was even less enthusiastic about going into with her.

“How can an AI even exist right now?” Carter asked. “Not much in the way of network infrastructure left for one to use, is there?”

And that was the other thing about Carter–she kept asking much better questions than Root expected from a cop, questions Root had no intention of answering.

“Samaritan’s managing just fine.” It was managing better than the Machine was, unfortunately.

Carter tapped a nail on the blade of her sword. “Can you prove any of this?”

“I think I'll be able to when I can talk to Her again. So, tomorrow.” They still were too close to the city. Another hour or two should do the trick though.

“About that,” Shaw said, and something about the way she said it made Root stiffen. “We might need to delay this trip a bit. Didn't plan to get stuck here. We brought enough supplies with us to get us there and back, but not if we get stuck again on the way back.” Shaw motioned at the sealed up window. “Rain doesn't show any signs of letting up soon either.”

Root’s nails dug into her crossed arms. She was _so close_ to being able to talk to Her again. She couldn't turn back now. “I'm going with or without you.”

Reese frowned from his corner. “You don't have a car. You'd have to walk. It'd be at least a day's walk and right through some areas likely to have a large undead presence.”

“Nothing I haven't faced before.”

“What's so important it can't wait a few days?” Carter asked, looking at her like she was suggesting something truly crazy.

Root glanced at Shaw who stayed silent on her counter perch, staring down at the floor with a slight frown.

“I need to…” She didn't know how to explain what the Machine’s silence felt like to her, the horrible emptiness it left. Her time with Shaw was the only thing that had made it bearable, but the Machine's absence was a constant ache. Over five years of Her in Root's ear, with only brief periods apart when she got too near cities, and now...nothing. “I'm going no matter what.”

She left before anyone could argue the point further. She was done explaining, especially if they weren't going to help.

Shaw caught up with her back in the room they were supposed to be sharing.

“You're not going to make it there before dark on foot.”

Root already had her pack on, ready to go. “I'll manage. I survived for five years, remember?”

“Still makes sense to wait until morning,” Shaw pointed out with her frustratingly calm logic.

“Fine.” Root dumped her pack back onto the floor.

“If we all go tomorrow, there's a chance we don't make it back.”

“I heard what you said.”

Shaw sighed in annoyance.

“Reese and Carter will take the car back, stock up on supplies, and come after us.”

“Us?”

“The Machine helped us save a lot of lives over the years, even before this whole thing. Figure we owe her one.”

Root couldn't help the smile. Shaw was going to come with her. “Or maybe you're just worried about me, Shaw.”

Shaw scoffed. “I'm worried you're going to get your dumb ass killed and ruin whatever scheme your AI buddy has planned and doom humanity.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself.” She stepped into Shaw’s space like she had earlier, backing her into the door. “Is it later yet?” Because if she wasn't taking off tonight, then she had plenty of time to kill.

Shaw’s hands came up to rest on her waist again like they had earlier. She liked having them there, having Shaw's hands on her. Tomorrow they'd be alone together again and she could barely wait.

“She sent me to you for a reason,” she breathed against Shaw's lips before kissing her hard and pressing her into the door forcefully enough to get a grunt out of her.

“Technically she sent both me and Reese after you,” Shaw said when they surfaced. “Maybe you need both of us.” She smirked, clearly pleased with the disdainful look she'd gotten out of Root.

Root reached for Shaw’s belt. “Somehow I doubt that.”

* * *

 

“Wake up.” Shaw prodded Root in the back.

It took a few more prods before Root opened her eyes and blinked blearily at her. “Why?” She tried to pull her blanket over her head without waiting for an answer.

Why? Shaw rolled her eyes. She should have guessed Root would be terrible at waking up.

“Root. Wake. Up.” She punctuated each harshly whispered word with another poke.

“It's not morning yet?” Root didn't sound completely sure.

“We got trouble maybe. Come see.”

Root finally sat up and slid out from under the blanket she'd been under, still mostly naked from earlier. She'd been too drowsy to bother putting clothes on after their third round. They'd done a good job of wearing each other out.

“Take a look.” Shaw pulled open the cover on the window. They'd put hinges on the window covers on the second floor so they could use them to get a look outside when needed.

Out in the darkness there were figures moving in the trees bordering the yard. They moved far more deliberately than undead usually did, almost like the ones from the subway had.

“What're they doing?” Root whispered.

“Not sure. Maybe they're getting ready to attack?”

“They don't plan in advance.” Root shrugged. “Or they didn't used to.”

“This place is pretty defensible, but I'd rather not have to find out just how much. Any ideas?” Root had more experience with the undead out here by a long shot.

“Stay quiet. No lights or noise. They might know we're in here, but we don't want to provoke them further.”

“Wait and hope they go away? That's a lousy plan.”

“Do you have a better one?”

Shaw didn't so she nodded and moved away from the window, but left the cover open. It was high enough up that the undead couldn't get in, and she wanted to be able to spy on them without opening and shutting it constantly.

She sat down on the floor near the window. “I'll check on them every ten minutes or so. Go back to sleep for now, I guess.”

Root sat down next to her. “Somehow I'm not tired anymore. We can both keep watch.”

When she fell asleep again ten minutes later, Shaw didn't wake her. Not even when she slumped sideways and ended up with her head on Shaw's shoulder. She needed the rest, Shaw told herself. And if Shaw woke her up again who could say if she'd be able to fall asleep again?

She had to slide Root off of her when it was time to check outside again, so she eased her down onto the floor. She grabbed Root's abandoned blanket to awkwardly drape over her, because with the window open it was damned cold in here and Root was half-naked. Root stirred a little in her sleep, but didn't wake and Shaw wondered when Root had decided she trusted her enough to sleep soundly in the same room as her.

Probably best not to worry too much about what that meant for now.

* * *

 

The undead didn't attack that night, and in the morning they'd vanished. And somehow that was the most disturbing part of it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing two characters together is ideal. Three is challenging but rewarding. Four and a dog is freakin tough. I remembered partway into this why I usually kept it down to three people at a time in STC. Good practice though I guess, and I'm super glad to be writing in an AU far enough removed from canon for Carter to be around.


	5. Briefcases and Satellites

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> starts out kind of slow, ends with a lot of excitement and noise, kind of like tchaikovsky's gayteen-twelve overture.

“You sure about this?”

Shaw was a bit sick of being asked that, but since it was Carter doing the asking she didn't mind as much.

“If there's even a chance in hell of ever finding a way out of this mess, then Root is connected to it.”

Over near the front porch, Root had sat down against the house wall to wait for everyone to be ready to leave and had fallen back asleep there. She looked peaceful when she slept, less like a cornered, wild animal ready to fight or flee.

“If she disappears, so does the first lead we've had in years.”

Carter sighed. “Can't believe I'm agreeing with one of John's plans, but maybe he's right and we should make her come back with us now until we can try again. You two going alone on foot is reckless.”

It was, but Shaw knew Root wouldn't be stopped unless they knocked her out or tied her up. Tempting, but it would break any trust they had at all and that would only make Root more likely to run off the first chance she had.

“We’ll be okay. Especially once she gets her super secret connection to this AI back. And if things go well, you'll catch up with us before we get wherever it is we're going.”

Carter only nodded, her attention drawn by Reese and Root squabbling near the car. Somehow, in the last two minutes, Root had not only woken up and gone over to the car, but managed to annoy Reese yet again. Impressive.

“No one else would have taken it.” Reese looked annoyed, almost sullen.

“Maybe it was Bear.” Root nonchalantly adjusted her jacket over a distinctly gun-shaped bulge at the small of her back.

Reese sighed. “Guess you're going to need it more than I am in the next day. Just watch Shaw's back, okay?”

Root immediately removed the gun from her pants and presented it to him. “It's no fun if you're going to be reasonable about it, John.”

“She's something else, isn't she?” Carter asked, pitching her voice low so it wouldn't carry.

“Been living out on her own for five years. Doesn't do much for people skills.” People skills were highly overrated, in Shaw's opinion. 

“You think she had those before?” Carter sounded doubtful.

“Probably not.” Shaw wasn't completely sure how to judge that. Root was mostly fine with her, and she'd charmed a couple merchants at the market, but she’d been malicious and condescending towards Reese from day one, and was still regarding Carter warily. She seemed to change personalities as it suited her. It was possible Shaw was the only one who'd seen any type of authentic behavior out of her (and she questioned why she was so sure she knew it was authentic).

“You know what she's after? Like what she's really after other than whatever you two did to traumatize John last night?”

Shaw decided to ignore that last bit. “Saving the Machine, I think.” Root's attempt at leaving last night hadn't been an act, of that she was sure.

“And what about you, Shaw?”

Shaw wished she knew. Maybe it was five years of living in a basement with only Reese for company, but Shaw hadn't wanted Root to take off. And she'd been really damn certain that Root wasn't going to survive the trip on her own, but then she'd been given good reason to think that. She pulled a folded piece of paper out of her pocket and handed it over to Carter.

“Is this from when you found her?”

“No, got this one right before we left. Think her AI boss is worried about her.”

This time the print out had only had the same photo of Root as the first one they'd gotten, no coordinates.

Carter handed the paper back. “Guess you'd better keep an eye on her then.” At Shaw's curious look, she added, “I protect the people who need it, whether I like them or not.” She adjusted the sword slung across her back and took Bear's leash from Shaw. “We'll see you two later, right?”

“We'll see you when we see you.” She felt a little better with Carter's acceptance. She didn't want or need anyone's approval, but Carter's opinion mattered for some reason.

Root came over to stand next to her as the car pulled away. “Alone at last.”

She hadn't even lasted ten seconds without flirting.

“We'd better get moving.”

They stuck to the roads, staying in the middle as far from the trees as possible. Shaw had expected Root to chatter constantly, but she seemed content to wander along next to Shaw in silence.

And it was damned silent. Sure there were the sounds of birds and wind in the trees, but none of the noises Shaw would expect from a town, even one spread out in the trees like this one. It was eerie and put her on edge, as did the unfamiliar trepidation she felt in her stomach. She didn't do scared.

Root seemed unconcerned though.

“How'd you put up with it being this damn quiet for that many years?” Shaw had to say something to break the silence and keep herself from staring suspiciously at every tree they passed.

“Humans can get used to just about anything if they have to, and it wasn't quiet all the time. I had Her to talk to.”

No wonder she was so desperate to get the Machine back. Losing the one thing that had kept her sane and safe out here must have been terrifying.

“How'd that start anyway? Answer a job posting? Or did she catch you hacking something?”

Root didn't answer right away, and instead raised a hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she peered at a school building they were passing. The windows were all shattered and the one school bus in the parking lot looked like it had seen better days. Shaw had heard...unpleasant stories about what had happened in some of the schools during the outbreak. It was enough that she had no interest in ever going near one now.

“I found out about Her existence through, well, let's call it a job gone wrong. And after that I dropped everything to track Her down.”

“For what?”

“I...wanted to meet Her, to help Her.” Root finally looked away from the school. “She wasn’t able to do much at the time, very locked down, and I thought She deserved to be free. Creating something to enslave is…” Root trailed off. “I didn't have a lot of success until I got a little carried away trying to locate Her and She stepped in and offered me a deal.”

“That was before Samaritan, right?”

“It was.” Root frowned as if remembering something unpleasant. “About half a year before it came online. Another three months after that the outbreak happened.”

“I missed a lot of that. Got shot when everyone panicked. Reese found a place to hide us until things quieted down. Stole a lot of supplies and we stayed low. But I heard things were even worse outside the city.”

“They were.”

Root didn't seem inclined to expand on the topic and Shaw guessed she couldn't blame her for that. There had been a shockingly low number of cases of the dead rising in the city. Most of the bloodshed in the city had been people turning against each other, fighting over food and bottled water and trying to kill anyone who looked even a little off (and anyone trying to protect them, as she'd found out). It had brought out the worst in the population.

But then Samaritan forces had appeared out of nowhere and put the city under martial law. They'd been surprisingly efficient when it came to shutting down the bridges and tunnels, almost like they'd been prepared.

Outside the cities, Samaritan hadn't been there to help and the outbreak had run rampant. Reese had brought back reports of the death toll, and it had seemed unimaginably high. Surely it was a panic-induced exaggeration.

The first time she and Reese had ventured out of the city, almost seven months after the outbreak, they'd made the mistake of scouting out a nearby town. They hadn't made that mistake again.

She wanted very badly the ask Root for details. Instead she tugged the map out of her pocket and unfolded it as they walked.

“Should be a highway entrance up ahead. Maybe another twenty minutes. Be a lot safer once we're away from the buildings.” She squinted against the sun to get a better look and then turned back to her map. “Think there's a hospital up ahead not too far out of the way. Might be worth checking it for supplies.”

“That...isn't a good idea.”

Shaw looked up from her map. “Why not?”

“A lot of people went to the hospitals during the first days of the outbreak, both in the hopes of getting treated and to steal medical supplies. It got ugly really fast.”

Probably meant they should stay away at all costs, but….

“Let's go look at it from a safe distance. If it looks bad, we'll move on.” At Root's disapproving look she added, “Medical supplies are really scarce. If there's any way…”

Root sighed. “Fine, but if it looks even slightly suspect, we're leaving.”

“Fine by me.”

Root didn't argue further, but her lips were pressed into a tight line.

The hospital was set back from the road a bit and the long curved driveway leading up to it only had one or two undead limping around aimlessly. The building itself was dark and still.

Shaw climbed up on top of an abandoned ambulance across the road and hauled Root up after her.

“Am I going to get to see your archery skills in action again?” It was the most cheerful Shaw had heard Root all day and she'd have been lying if she said she wasn't tempted to show off a little. There was something almost, well, almost nice about Root's attention, beyond the obvious reasons. Root had read her file, had known all about her even before they met, and stared at her like she could see right through her, and it was clear she liked what she saw. That wasn't a reaction Shaw was used to, even before the apocalypse, and it filled her with something almost like calm.

She rummaged in her pack to find her binoculars and clear her mind.

“If we decide to go in, I'll pick off the ones out front from a distance.” She raised her binoculars to her eyes. “Let's see if anyone’s home.”

It was hard to make out much through the windows at first since there were no lights inside, but Shaw found an indoor walkway halfway up the building that had the sunlight streaming through the windows on both sides.

At first nothing moved inside, but then there was a shadow, a dark figure silhouetted in the sunlight. She moved her head around a little, trying to find an angle that didn't have as much glare, and froze. The undead was wearing scrubs, the baggy ripped cloth hanging off its rotting skin in shreds. A flicker of motion near it made her zoom out a little. There was any entire grotesque parade of undead in scrubs and lab coats lurching onto the walkway. And at the back of the line there was a much shorter one, so small she almost couldn't see it above the window ledge.

Shaw lowered her binoculars.

“Shaw? Did you see anything?”

“You know I was in med school, right?”

Root looked at her curiously. “It was in your file, yes.”

What would have happened to her during the outbreak if she'd been working in a hospital? What would she have done in those circumstances?

“Hospital is a no go. Let's not waste anymore time.”

She was glad when Root didn't ask any further questions. Glad enough that she gave Root a brief archery demonstration at the expense of the undead on the front lawn before they moved on.

* * *

 

Even though the rain had stopped overnight, there was still a strong, cold wind blowing, making piles of wet leaves twitch and flop in a distracting way. Root almost pulled her machete on a leaf pile twice that afternoon.

She wasn’t sure what Shaw made of their journey so far. There hadn't been much talk since they'd left the hospital, so it was hard to tell exactly what she was thinking.

It was early evening before Root decided to break the silence for more than an update on directions. Shaw kept looking back over her shoulder every ten minutes or so and it was starting to concern her.

“Is something following us?”

“No, but I'd expected Reese and Carter to catch up with us before dark.”

The route they'd taken was a little longer than the way they would have driven, but hopefully a little safer. Without the others catching up they'd be on their own that night for shelter.

“Maybe they ran into traffic.”

Shaw snorted and almost smiled at the joke, but she didn't stop checking behind them.

“Also, I…” Shaw shook her head like she couldn't believe what she was about to say. “I just keep feeling like we're being watched or followed or something. There's something...off. Can't shake the feeling.”

It was Root's turn to look behind them then, but the long stretch of highway and trees held no answers. Still, she knew what Shaw meant; the back of her neck had been itching from the weight of unseen eyes all day, and there'd been a growing sense of unease in her and a ringing in her bad ear.

Another cold wind swept down the road, cutting right through Root's jacket and making her shiver. The sun would be down soon and it would only get colder. And more dangerous.

“Maybe we should check into a motel overnight.” She pointed at the sign for the next exit which had a logo of what she guessed was supposed to be a person in a bed to indicate lodgings available.

“Wouldn't it be safer to sleep up a tree or something?” Shaw asked unenthusiastically.

“Not necessarily. Motel rooms only have one door to worry about–which is both a good and bad thing–and they're usually not overrun. Also no interior halls like a hotel.” The only one exit thing worried her a lot, but she was willing to risk it if it meant she didn't have to sleep up in a tree. The Machine had used to find her safe places to sleep during the fall and winter, but She still hadn't spoken to Root.

She was trying not to think about that.

“Beats sleeping in a tree, I guess.”

The exit ramp led to a row of strip malls with a motel tucked in between them that had probably already been run down before the apocalypse. There were a good number of zombies in the area, but not as many as Root had feared there would be.

“Motel looks clear enough,” Shaw whispered as they crouched behind a row of bushes. “Most of the undead are in the Starbucks parking lot.”

“Guess they needed a little pick-me-up.”

Shaw made a disgusted noise under her breath. “Let's do this as quietly as we can.”

It wasn't too hard to make their way down the road unnoticed, except for the one spot where a whole bunch of zombies were milling around in the road. Shaw led her down the sidewalk next to them in a crouch, the row of parked cars shielding them from view. They were close enough now that they could hear the zombies wheezing breaths and smell their rotting skin. Root focused on watching Shaw's back, following her every move, and placing her feet carefully. She might have been living out here for years, but Shaw had been trained for this sort of thing.

And watching her...back was a nice distraction from the certain death on the other side of the cars.

A piece of paper blew across the sidewalk in front of her, rustling along the cement in the breeze. She froze, her breath caught in her lungs and saw Shaw pause as well a step ahead of her and look back. When there was no change in the slow shuffling noises of the zombies after a long minute, Shaw caught her eye and nodded ever so slightly, before jerking her head to indicate they should move. The tiny gesture unfroze Root's limbs, and she set off after Shaw again.

The motel was as abandoned as it had looked from the distance, much to both their relief. They opted to take a room on the second floor–zombies had trouble with stairs and there were less broken windows up there. The doors were still locked, but Shaw produced a lockpick set from her pack and popped the lock with ease.

“What?” she asked at Root's look.

“Nothing. You're just so good with your hands, Shaw.”

That got her an eye roll, but a good-natured one.

The air in the room was stale and musty, but nothing smelled rotten and a quick examination of the room found it to be relatively intact, if excessively dusty. Shaw locked the door behind them and helped Root slide the cheap dresser in front of it. It wouldn't help much, but it was better than nothing.

“Don't suppose there's any way the water still works here?” Shaw asked without much hope.

“Doubtful. Probably best not to even try.”

The top comforter on the bed was too dusty to be of much use, but the sheets under it were clean enough. Shaw stared at the bed with a considering look and Root wondered what the chances of one of them having to sleep on the floor was. She got that Shaw wasn't really into sleep overs, and the idea of waking up next to someone else felt a little odd to her as well, but…

But the idea of having Shaw's warm body against hers in the night was appealing, like it would somehow hold the horror and emptiness at bay for a few hours. She doubted Shaw would feel that way though, and that was fine. Having Shaw here with her when she hadn't needed to come with her at all was more than enough.

But there were other uses for the bed besides sleeping.

“Wanna test out the bed?” she asked, because they both knew where this was headed so why waste time?

Shaw chuckled quietly. “Yeah, okay. But we're going to have to keep it down.”

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

That part proved to be difficult. Root had a hard time keeping any sounds from escaping her when she was straddling Shaw’s lap, riding the two fingers Shaw had buried deep in her and scratching red lines down Shaw’s back. Shaw's mouth was on one of her breasts, teeth and tongue teasing at her nipple, and Shaw’s free hand squeezed her ass in a delightfully bruising grip. Her eyes fell shut and she threw her head back as Shaw's fingers hit her just right over and over and her lips parted to let a traitorous but enthusiastic moan escape. Shaw pulled her head away just long enough to pant out, “don't you dare,” and Root regained control of herself enough to fall forward against Shaw and muffle her enthusiasm against her neck. Her teeth scraped Shaw's neck when she came and, despite her best efforts, a somewhat drawn out whimper escaped her.

“Fuck,” Shaw breathed, and for a second Root thought she’d heard something outside, but then she found herself flipped over onto the bed so Shaw could continue to keep herself occupied with Root's breasts as she caught her breath.

She could see the eager tension stringing through Shaw’s entire body, so once she'd recovered, she didn't waste any time and was soon thrusting two fingers hard into Shaw as she hovered over her and rocked against her hand. Shaw's eyes bored into hers, dark and intense in the dim light of the room. Shaw wasn't usually much of one for eye contact during sex, Root had found out, but tonight she stared straight at Root, her eyes holding something almost like a challenge. Root did her best to meet the challenge with her fingers driving rapidly into the wet heat of Shaw, her teeth biting at Shaw's lips, her neck, her shoulder, and Shaw let the faintest gasp escape her when she came before collapsing on top of Root.

Root ran a hand down Shaw's sweaty flank, reveling in the chance to stroke her skin while Shaw was too fucked out to care. Shaw's skin was hot and damp under her fingers, smooth except for the raised patches of scar tissue here and there. Root traced one twisted scar along Shaw's hip, mapping out the length of it.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

“You can have half.” Shaw's voice was a low rumble against Root's chest.

“Half?”

“Half the bed. But if you steal the covers you get to sleep on the dusty comforter on the floor.”

Root smiled down at the top of Shaw's head and marvelled at the way her dark sweaty locks were stuck to her skin. She wanted to brush Shaw's hair back with her fingers, feel the weight of it in her hands. The urge was overwhelming and why not she figured as she reached to smooth a long strand of hair back off Shaw's face. Shaw froze for a second and Root held her breath, ready to have her hand batted away and be banished to the floor, but then Shaw scrunched her face in a look Root interpreted as “oh well, whatever” and relaxed again.

“Half the bed, huh? I must have done good.”

Shaw snorted. “You know you did. Asshole.”

Shaw didn't stay lying on her much longer, but she was true to her word and didn't even question when they both got into the bed later after cleaning up a bit. Root was on her best behavior and stayed on her side of the bed until she finally managed to fall asleep.

She only woke up once in the middle of the night, when Shaw rolled over and her hand landed on Root's arm. Root startled awake, but held completely still once she realized what had happened. Shaw showed no signs of waking though and Root went back to sleep with the warm weight of Shaw's hand on her and a small, sleepy thread of wonder in her mind.

* * *

 

“They should have caught up already.” Shaw knew it was the third time she'd said that today, but as every hour went past without any sign of Reese and Carter she became more convinced something had gone wrong. She couldn't do much about it from here, but she was concerned about what they'd find waiting for them when they got back. Which would be difficult to do without the car, though not impossible.

“Any way Samaritan could know what we're up to?” she asked and then realized Root was no longer standing next to her.

She turned to find Root a few paces behind her on the highway, her face lit up in radiant awe of something Shaw couldn't see or hear. It was strange, almost too personal to watch, but Shaw didn't let herself look away. She knew what this had to be.

“I can hear you,” Root said, her voice trembling with excitement. Her face was shining and all the exhaustion and worry that Shaw was used to seeing on it was burned away. She listened quietly for a few seconds and then her eyes focused on Shaw again. “I understand.” She started forward. “We need to hurry, Shaw.”

Shaw had to half-jog to keep up with her. “Wait. Root, wait. That's the Machine, right? What'd she say? Does she know where Reese and Carter are? Is Bear okay?”

“She said we need to hurry now and not to worry about the others.”

“What's the sudden rush?” She caught up enough to grab Root's arm and force her to stop and look at her. “Root, what the hell did she say?”

Root looked grim. “She said we're being hunted.”

“Hunted. Hunted by what?”

Root had taken off at a brisk pace down the road again though.

“Dammit, Root.” Shaw caught up with her again but didn't try to stop her this time. “Is it Samaritan or those extra creepy undead from the other night or something else?” There were humans living out here in small, fortified settlements, but she didn't think they'd find one within a day's drive of the city.

Root came to a halt so abruptly that Shaw almost tripped trying to stop.

“Sam. We need to go now. As fast as we can, but without running.”

“Root…”

“In the trees on either side of us, but _don't_ turn your head. Look out the corner of your eyes when we start walking again.”

Shaw didn't do fear, but she felt something like a spike of adrenaline shoot through her and kick all her senses into full alert. She started walking again when Root did and cast a quick glance at the trees as they went past. Shadows moved through the woods on either side of the highway. They didn't move like humans, but they didn't move quite like undead either.

“What are those things?” she asked softly as they hurried along.

“They're what we saw in the woods around the house the other night. And like those other ones in the subway, but more...advanced.”

“You make it sound like they're being engineered or something.”

“Not...not exactly. She says She's figured it out. Part of it anyway.”

Shaw tried to keep one eye on the shadows and one eye on Root. “Are you going to tell me what the hell she figured out anytime soon?”

“Not the greatest time.” Root sighed. “But She says it's a virus.”

“I mean we sort of guessed that one ages ago, and…”

“An engineered virus that's evolving very quickly. It's almost like a parasite, but it's not technically a living organism.”

“Engineered. By Samaritan?”

Root nodded. Her eyes were wide and Shaw could see a hint of fear in there mixed with the residual glow from hearing the Machine and the tiredness she'd come to associate with Root. “It was supposed to control people but it evolved in a way Samaritan didn't expect. But by then it was already in the water supply so Samaritan couldn't do much except damage control. Until now anyway.”

Root’s explanation only raised more questions for Shaw.

“Why didn't everyone die then? I mean, shit, it's not like I only drank bottled water or anything.”

“Location. Samaritan didn't target the big cities initially. They wanted a controlled experiment. They went after isolated places in the country at first, with varying success, and then they moved to the suburbs. That's when the virus mutated and they couldn't stop the spread.”

There was one question to ask, more important than all the others.

“Can it be cured?”

She knew that viruses often couldn't be, but if this one had been engineered, maybe Samaritan had made some kind of cure or maybe even a vaccine. It wouldn't help the dead, but maybe it could protect the living.

Root shook her head. “Not exactly. Not after the host is dead anyway. But She says they’re working on a...a treatment of sorts. Something to help fight back against the virus in someone newly infected. If they survive, they'd be immune after that, but the odds aren't great.”

Shaw’s mind was racing with all this new information. Could whatever this thing was somehow be turned into a vaccine?

“How'd she find all this out now?”

Root slowed down for half a step, all the exhaustion from earlier sweeping across her face.

“She did something incredibly risky.” Root’s hand stole up to touch her right ear. “No more questions now. We need to move.”

Neither of them said anything else as they continued at their fast-but-not-too-fast pace. Shaw kept an eye on the figures moving in the trees and tried to fight down the growing sense of dread she felt. There was something very wrong here, because she didn't get scared or anxious and yet there was this growing unease similar to what she'd felt over the last two day, but worse and powerful enough to make her sick to her stomach.

Whatever was causing it was external, she was positive. Samaritan or the undead or both were doing something.

“What is that?” she asked Root, positive from her expression that she could feel it, too.

“It's how Samaritan controls them. I'll explain later. I mean, if there is a later.”

That Samaritan could control the undead was probably the worst thing Shaw had heard in the last five years.

Their destination was only another twenty minutes up the highway, fortunately. Shaw spent most of that time concentrating on her breathing and trying to both watch and not seem to watch the figures out of the corner of her eye.

“What're they waiting for?” she asked Root as they followed the curve of the exit ramp off the main road.

“I have no idea. And neither does She.”

Not reassuring in the least.

“Did she at least tell you where we're headed?”

“Up there.”

Root didn't point but there was no way of mistaking where she meant. There was a giant satellite dish fenced in next to a long flat facility high up on a hill beyond the row of buildings and shops in front of them.

“Oh.” Shaw suddenly had a very good idea of where the Machine had been hiding out and exactly how she'd kept tabs on Root all these years.

Root led them in a path that unerringly avoided all the undead in the area, and Shaw got her first hint of how Root survived out here for so long because she seemed to just _know_ where it was safe to be. The Machine was definitely a powerful ally to have.

“Where did they go?” Shaw asked as Root fiddled with a combination lock on the gate. Shaw was betting that Root already knew the damn combination thanks to the Machine.

“They're down there in the trees. Waiting.”

Shaw squinted at the tree line which came almost up to the edge of the hill the satellite building stood on. She couldn't see anything down there, but she didn't think that meant much under the circumstances.

“Waiting for what?”

“No time.” Root popped the lock off and swung the chain link gate open.

They locked the gate behind them, but Shaw knew that it wouldn't hold up under an assault. She had a sinking feeling things were going to get bad really fast.

The door to the building was locked, and Shaw got to pick the lock again, though this time there was no innuendo from Root, whose fever-bright eyes were unfocused and staring at something unseen.

“Well, we're here.” Shaw looked around the room they'd ended up in. There was a lot of fancy equipment here. She had a general idea of what it all did, without many specifics. “This place is set up to receive satellite communications on a massive scale or something, right?”

“Not just receive.” Root headed to one table and plopped the briefcase down before turning her attention to some of the electronics. “Also transmit.”

“No power, though.”

“There's an emergency generator out back. Someone needs to turn it on.” Root looked up at her. “Don't worry, it's safe inside the fence for now. There was nothing here to interest the zombies. Until now, anyway.”

“The Machine, she's in a satellite, isn't she?”

“Not just one. Satellites can bounce information to and from earth, kind of like big space mirrors. She can be anywhere satellite receivers exist and spread out from there. She's still essentially everywhere, but selectively. She goes where She needs when She needs and retreats back to any number of satellites after.”

It explained a lot, like how she could help Root wherever she was. Anywhere that had any type of satellite receiver and any power left could be an avenue for her. And even without that, she could probably help some with satellite imagery. Plus she had Root as her eyes and ears where she had none. Shaw had seen Root’s relationship with the Machine as a dependency, but now she was beginning to understand that it was more symbiotic.

“Shaw? The generator?” Root looked up from whatever she was doing with a bunch of wires to remind her.

“Right.”

She stepped cautiously out the back door of the place, but nothing moved. That weird sense of unease only intensified outdoors and she reminded herself to ask Root about that if they survived this. Just what the hell was Samaritan doing?

Before switching the power back on, she walked a little closer to the fence to look down at the trees again. Still nothing.

“Well, here goes.”

The hum of the generator coming to life reminded her of what Root had said about the one in the subway. Yeah, this was going to end terribly.

As if to prove her right, the sense of unease she felt...changed. She couldn't quite explain what it felt like, but it twisted in her stomach weirdly and made her ears ring.

A noise drew her attention back to the fence and the trees below. The woods definitely weren't empty now. Undead were pouring out of the trees all around them, not as many as Shaw had imagined, but still more than enough to overrun them. Some of them were definitely moving with deliberation, and it looked like the more mindless ones were trailing behind them obediently.

“I hope you have an exit strategy for us,” Shaw said to the satellite dish in the yard, and immediately felt silly.

“Root,” she called as she returned to the building. “We're about to have a lot of company. Hope you two have a plan.”

“Working on it.”

Root had finally opened the briefcase and Shaw couldn't help herself from moving over to see what was inside despite that being the least of her worries at the moment.

“Some type of hard drives?” It was what Root had said it was likely to be.

“Sealed up tight all this time. I didn't want to open it until I had to in order to keep them protected as long as possible.” Root pulled the first few drives out and went to work connecting them to a computer on the desk. “There's...a lot of data on these. We've got some very, very nice hardware here, but it's still going to take a while to upload it all to Her.”

“Just what is it all?”

“All sorts of data She had to leave behind when She ran from Samaritan. Some of it memories, some of it protocols. Theoretically this should make Her a lot more powerful. Or give Her more options, anyway.”

“Enough to fight back against Samaritan?”

Root laughed humorously. “If that were the case, She wouldn't have had to run in the first place.” Root forced a smile. “But it's a good start.”

There was a crash from outside that sounded a lot like something slamming into a chain link fence.

Shaw reached for the weapons strapped to her bag.

“You can't fight all of them, Shaw.”

“No, but I can hold them off. Buy us time.”

Root stopped working on the drives to watch her. “Sameen, there's too many of them out there.”

“What are the chances of us making it in here?”

Root looked distressed but didn't respond and that was all the answer Shaw needed.

“You keep working on that. I'll deal with this.”

“Shaw!” Root called after her, but Shaw was already heading out the door.

The undead were outside the fence as she'd expected, but they were concentrated at the gate. The smarter ones in the front were probably responsible for that. What a hell of a time for them to figure out doors.

They hadn't completely figured them out though because they were only slamming into the gate rather than trying to open it. Just as well; the last thing they needed was for the undead to learn how to use door handles like the goddamn velociraptors in Jurassic Park. They had enough problems.

The undead in the front paused from pummeling the gate to look at her through the fence. Its eyes were focused, and while she wasn't sure she'd call the look in them intelligence, it was definitely calculating.

“Yeah, well let's see how well you think without a head,” she said under her breath. She had her shotgun out and ready now and maybe this whole situation sucked but she so rarely got to use guns anymore that she couldn't help but feel eager.

The gate gave after another minute of assault and the first undead spilled through, falling to the ground from the pressure of the others behind it trying to get through.

“Think fast, asshole.” Shaw watched with satisfaction as her shotgun blew its head to pieces.

The shotgun didn't last her too long with its limited ammo and long reload time, and she switched to a handgun, shooting with one hand so she could keep her hammer in the other to deal with any trying to rush her.

The undead were dying in waves, but she knew better than to be optimistic about that. There were too damn many of them and more and more were spilling through the gate each moment.

She backed away, leading them around the edge of the compound slowly to try and thin them out and keep them from rushing her. It also kept them away from the door to the building. She didn't think either of them had a good chance here, but she wasn't going to make Root's chances any worse than they already were. Maybe the Machine had some last minute extraction plan for them, but right now she couldn't see what that would possibly look like.

Two of the smart ones cut to her right, trying to circle around behind her. She cursed and moved to take them out, but hesitated, remembering the ploy they'd tried in the subway. On a hunch, she swung around with her hammer to her left and, sure enough, connected solidly with the third one that had been trying to blind side her.

Of course this meant the two on her right were free to rush her, and she spun back around, ready to meet their assault only to find them already dead on the ground and Root standing over them with her machete in one hand and Reese’s gun in the other.

“Thought you could use a hand, sweetie.” She moved to Shaw's side to assist and they both turned back to the advancing undead mob.

“Not that I'm complaining, but shouldn't you be in there sending a message to the stars or whatever?”

Root shrugged and shot a zombie in the face. “It's uploading. She doesn't need me to watch a progress bar.”

“So it's working?” Shaw pivoted and used the haft of her hammer to knock down a whole row of undead like dominoes.

“Of course it's working.” Root sounded almost contemptuous and Shaw damn near smiled despite everything because sometimes it was a good thing to have someone so sure of their skills in a situation like this. And also the arrogant confidence was kind of hot on Root.

“Glad all this wasn't for nothing then.”

“Don't count us out yet, Shaw. She has a plan, and also, reinforcements are on the way.”

“Reinforc…”

Shaw didn't have time to finish the thought because a car barreled right through the front gate, ripping down a huge section of the fence as it came and mowing down undead.

“Fucking finally,” Shaw grumbled. “At least Reese found a use for his car crashing skills.

Except it was Carter who got out of the driver's seat and Reese climbed out of the passenger's seat with his mace already out and ready and a shotgun cradled in his other arm.

“Sorry we're late,” Reese called over the din. “Would you believe we got two flat tires _and_ held up by Samaritan security forces?”

Carter had her giant sword out now and was putting it to good use, sweeping wide arcs in front of her to cut down swathes of the undead at a time. Shaw damn near forgot what she was doing watching that. It was always a privilege to watch Carter really cut loose. Giving her that sword had been a goddamn inspiration and Shaw had absolutely no regrets on that count.

“Who was driving when you got the flats?” Shaw yelled back as she returned to dealing with her own group of undead.

Reese didn't answer but she saw his annoyed grimace when she glanced over. She chuckled. Reese and Carter might not be enough to turn the tide considering just how many undead there were, but there wasn't anyone better she could ask to fight alongside of.

She spared a moment of concentration to check on Root, who had somehow managed to move away from her into the mass of undead. Shaw groaned and reached out to yank her backwards by her collar.

“Stay on me,” she warned her.

Root's face lit up in a truly pleased smirk. “Oh sweetie, _any_ time.”

Shaw shook her head. How was she flirting now of all times? Unbelievable.

Root sliced through another undead’s skull. “Get ready for it, Shaw.”

“Uh, for what?” Shaw asked, her brain still partially in the gutter.

Like earlier, she felt it rather than heard it, though this time whatever it was rumbled through the ground causing everything to shake and her ears to pop. All around her the undead let out high-pitched keening noises and stumbled over each other trying to retreat. Shaw watched in amazement as the compound started to clear out.

“I don't know what she did, but...Root?”

Root was clutching the side of her head, her entire face contorted in pain. The weird pressure from whatever the hell the Machine had done kept increasing, and Shaw had only a moment of warning before Root collapsed. It was enough time that she managed to catch her before she hit the ground, dropping her own weapons so she could ease her down slowly.

“What the hell just happened?” Reese had come over. He must have not noticed Root was down until then because he quickly added, “She okay?”

Root’s pulse was steady, if a bit fast, and her breathing was regular. Shaw relaxed a little.

“Yeah, just passed out. Think whatever that was the Machine used to scare them off messed with whatever type of implant she's got in her ear.”

“Implant?” Carter asked from her other side.

Shaw shook her head. They could discuss this later. “Our packs are still inside, and Root’s briefcase. Make sure you grab all the drives off the table. Don't want to leave those here for Samaritan to find.”

She scooped Root up off the ground, and strained to straighten up with the additional weight, though damn Root was a lot lighter than she'd expected. Probably because she never seemed to eat enough and god knows she'd probably been malnourished living out in the wild and why was she thinking about this now of all times?

Reese and Carter got back as she finished getting Root arranged on the backseat of the car.

“This heap going to make it back?” she asked, eyeing the damage on the car.

“It's going to have to,” Reese said. “Unless we find another one in good enough condition to steal.”

“I'm driving then.” Shaw snatched the keys away from him. Somehow she was no longer worried about Carter and Root having to share the backseat, even if Root hadn't been unconscious.

“Did whatever it was you came here to do work?” Carter asked as the car started its halting journey down the hill.

Shaw glanced back up at the satellite dish in the rearview mirror. She'd been so damn sure they were going to die there and yet here they were, mostly thanks to the Machine. She was pretty well convinced now that Root wasn't wrong about her being the best chance they had, but she couldn't help but wonder what would have happened to Root if she'd come here alone.

“It damn well better have worked.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i realized that i've made references to velociraptors in 2-3 fics now and it occurred to me that maybe there are some people who don't constantly think about raptors and that made me sad.
> 
> if you've read my currently-on-hold space western fic, you might realize i've stolen a couple plot devices from there. i'm a bit writer's blocked on that one at the moment, but there was stuff i really liked so i just borrowed it for this.
> 
> nerd points to anyone who knows off the top of their head what the weird shit samaritan is using on the zombies is.
> 
> oh also, bear is fine. he's with carter's as yet unseen nypd partner whose identity I'm sure is easy to deduce.


	6. Figures in the Fog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had the misfortune to be up all night for two nights in a row, so this got written in two marathon sessions between 2-6am over two nights. the worst.
> 
> also i added fairly-vague-and-lazy chapter titles, mostly to make it easier for readers or myself to go back and find stuff. i suck at chapter titles.
> 
> there wasn't supposed to be a sex scene in this, but there ended up being a rather substantial one. no clue how that shit happened. oops. it's marked off as per usual.

Root dreamed.

It wasn't the long, leisurely type of dream, but instead a brief burst of images right on the edge of consciousness. A briefcase that vanished when she tried to touch it, Shaw, only a silhouette, walked through a door, a pillar over a wasteland crumbling, and then she was falling and the ground rushed up to meet her and there was pain and….

She woke up, heart racing.

Her first thought was wow, how much shallow symbolism could her subconscious mind cook up? Her second thought was damn the pain was _very_ real and her head was splitting and the world really _was_ shaking and she needed it to be still.

She tried to take stock of her surroundings as much as she could without opening her eyes. Definitely in a car based on the sounds and movement, almost certainly in the backseat. And someone was next to her because the top of her head was pressed up against their leg.

“I think she's awake.”

Root couldn't process the voice, only ‘loud’ and ‘painful’.

“Root, are you awake?”

She clapped a hand over her ear and squeezed her eyes shut, as if that would protect her from the throbbing headache.

“Good call on those painkillers, Shaw” the voice said and Root finally recognized Carter's voice. “Here.”

Something was pressed against her hand and she opened one eye cautiously to see a water bottle being offered.

“I've got some painkillers that'll help.”

Root shut her eye again. Sitting up and taking pills sounded impossible right now. Not only was her head throbbing, but her whole body ached and she felt like she was burning up. Was that from the Machine's counterattack as well?

“Root, take the damn painkillers.”

The sound of Shaw's voice filled her with relief. She remembered, through a haze of pain, the zombies retreating and she'd thought Shaw had been safe, but it was good to hear proof of that.

She forced herself to sit up. The wave of dizziness that followed almost made her fall back over, but she rode it out, fingernails biting into her own palm.

“Guess I shouldn't be surprised you listen to her over me.”

Root opened her eyes enough to give Carter a withering look, but she took the water bottle and pills offered without further protest.

“Where are we?” she asked quietly after she'd swallowed the pills. It was dark outside the car, and trees lined the highway.

“About halfway back,” Reese said from the front seat. “Want to tell us what happened back there?”

“No.” She rubbed her temples, willing her head to stop aching. On top of the pain, she felt like she was going to throw up.

“She doesn't look so great.” Carter again. “You get bitten by one of those things?”

Root felt a stab of panic. She knew what people did to potential bite victims. “No. Not unless one of them got to me after I passed out.” She knew for a fact none of the zombies had touched her before that. That was the sort of thing she'd remember.

“They didn't.” Shaw sounded very certain.

“Think she's got a fever.”

A hand pressed against Root's head and she smacked it away. But the dizziness had returned and also the strong pull of sleep. What type of pills had Shaw given her anyway?

“I'll feel better after some sleep.” She carefully lowered herself back down, but slid further over so she had more space between herself and Carter.

“Maybe we should pull over?” Reese made it a question.

“Just let her sleep for now. Whatever it is we can deal with it better when we're back to safety.”

Root silently thanked Shaw for that and closed her eyes and let sleep claim her.

* * *

 

Root next awoke when the car stopped.

“Damn thing couldn't last two more blocks?” Shaw sounded pissed, but also a little worried.

“Guess we got to walk the rest of the way,” Carter said from somewhere next to Root.

That sounded like the worst idea Root had ever heard. Also why was it so cold in here? The heating must have gone off when the car died. At least her headache had dulled to a manageable throbbing, but overall she felt decidedly worse.

Doors opened and shut, sending icy cold drafts rushing through the car and Root huddled up further on herself to escape the frigid air.

“Time to wake up.”

It was Shaw's voice from above her and Root opened her eyes and tried to find her. Everything swum a bit, but she could make out Shaw's blurry face leaning in the open door. It frowned at her.

“You're a mess.”

“At least I'm a hot mess.” It probably would have sounded more convincing if her teeth hadn't been chattering

Shaw shook her head. “Always flirting at the worst times, aren't you?” She reached out and put a hand on Root's forehead. Her palm felt warm after the freezing air.

“You got a hell of a fever.”

“None of them bit me. I can strip if you don't believe me.”

“You'd enjoy that too much. Also not the place for that. We’re a couple blocks from the boat, but it's night, and there's...company out there.”

“None of them bit me,” she repeated, because it was really important that Shaw believe that for some reason she couldn't quite put her finger on. Thinking was a little hard right now.

“Yeah, I didn't think they had. You probably got the flu. It's been going around the city like wildfire. Must have caught it at the market. You picked a hell of a time for it, but right now we've got to move. Okay?”

“Okay.” Doing what Shaw said sounded like a good plan since she couldn't think clearly enough to form her own.

It took her two tries and Shaw's help to get out of the car and on her feet and even then she almost fell right back over.

“Shaw, they're getting closer.” Reese had appeared from somewhere, mace in hand. “Still not rushing us, but they're definitely circling.”

Root looked out past the car at the buildings around them. City blocks. They must be in Hoboken, on the other side of the river from Manhattan. The buildings seemed to sway, moving forwards and back in her vision and between them….

It was hard to tell what was real or not, but she could see shadowy figures in the streets, not moving but waiting, poised. She couldn't tell if it was her fevered brain or not, but it seemed like a thick fog was covering the roads, making the figures appear and disappear as the fog rolled in clouds across the street.

“Shaw…”

“Yeah, I know. That's why we need to move. Now can you walk or is Reese gonna have to carry you again?”

Root decided that she'd risk staggering along on her own to avoid that fate. “I can manage.” Though something was missing. “My pack?”

“We've got all your stuff. Come on.”

Shaw’s hand pulled at her elbow and she took one step and then another and then walking became easier and they were moving through the dark street.

She risked another look at the streets around them. Had the figures gotten closer? Was she hallucinating? Where was her weapon? She fumbled at her waist for the machete and relaxed when Shaw shoved the hilt of it into her hand.

“Just don't stab me by accident, okay?”

“What are they waiting for?”

“Fucked if I know. Hopefully they keep waiting until we're safe.”

Ahead of them a few paces she could see Reese and Carter’s backs. For the first time ever she was grateful for having so many people around her.

They were halfway down the block when a familiar voice filled Root's right ear and chased away just a tiny bit of the fear, only to increase it tenfold when she heard what She had to say.

“Shaw, She says we have to run. Now.”

Shaw turned towards her. “The Machine? She's talking to you here?” At Root's nod, Shaw grabbed her by the arm and hurried forwards to the others. “We’ve got trouble. Gotta make a run for it. Now.”

Shaw’s hand tightened on Root's arm and dragged her forwards, their speed increasing steadily. Root risked a look to the side as they raced past the buildings and saw the figures keeping pace with them out in the fog.

Something growled to the right of them, low and inhuman, and then cut off in a gurgle.

“They're starting to close in.” It was Reese’s voice and she wondered if he'd been the one to get rid of the threat.

The Machine spoke again and Root came to an abrupt halt, Shaw almost tripping over her.

“It's a trap. They're driving us into an ambush.”

“Shit.” Shaw faced out into the fog, ready for any attack.

“Your AI have a better idea?” Carter asked. She had taken up position opposite Shaw, sword out and ready.

“This way.” It was hard to comprehend Her messages with her mind so foggy, but the adrenaline from fear helped a little. Root took off towards the alley the Machine had indicated, the whole world lurching around her with every impact of her feet on the pavement.

The alley was pitch black, but Root trusted that She wouldn't have sent her here if it were a dead end, so she plunged into the darkness, the others close behind. The alley let out onto a side street and the Machine gave her another set of quick instructions that took them around a corner and through another alley.

“Boat's up ahead.” Reese pointed down the street.

“They're rushing us!” Shaw hissed in warning and sped up even more, hauling Root after her.

Root could hear her own heartbeat hammering in her ear, and the sound of their feet on the pavement, except it sounded like a lot of feet, too many and she could hear them behind her, their wheezing rasps so close and she thought something grabbed at her shoulder but then there was a choked shriek and it fell away and she was stumbling as her feet hit a wooden surface and falling forwards and down and everything was rocking back and forth.

The boat. It took her a second to figure out the rocking, but she was in the boat and so were the others and they were moving away from the shore. She risked a look back at the dock behind them and then wished she hadn't.

The entire shore was full of the things, a writhing mass of undead right at the water's edge. She saw one slip and fall into the water, disappearing below the dark waves.

She turned away and huddled in the bottom of the boat. The cold was worse here, cutting through her clothes and leaving her shivering.

“Here.” A heavy, warm weight fell over her and she pulled what proved to be a long coat over herself like a blanket. When she looked up, she saw it was Reese of all people who'd given it to her.

“Thanks.”

He gave an awkward half-smile and then turned away to say something to Shaw.

“We'll get you somewhere warm, real soon.” Carter had come to sit next to her while she'd been distracted by Reese.

“Why?” she asked, teeth still chattering despite the coat. She knew that it was a broad question that might not make a lot of sense, but it was the best she could manage to come up with.

Carter seemed to take her meaning. “Whoever you were before, you watched Shaw’s back out there, and you just saved our asses. That counts for a lot.”

“I have a cop's approval. I must be slipping.” She tried to make it a joke, but it came out faint. She was ready to take a long nap somewhere warm now.

The rest of the boat ride and the walk back to the basement passed in a feverish blur. She didn't remember much until she was in front of her own bed with Shaw holding her arm again.

“Clothes on or off?”

Root briefly considered making a joke about Shaw always wanting her to take her clothes off, but passed because she very much didn't want to be naked right now when she was still shivering. She did manage to clumsily kick her shoes off before she crawled into the bed.

She was almost asleep when Shaw returned (when had she left?) and dumped a bunch of extra blankets on top of her.

“Putting water here. Make sure you drink it whenever you wake up. All of it. And I'll see if I can get something for the symptoms.”

“Okay.” She felt like more was needed than that and struggled to find something that would convey her thoughts. “Thank you, Sameen,” was all she came up with.

“Just sleep, okay?”

Root opened her eyes for a second, just long enough to see Shaw's comforting silhouette outlined against the light from the hall. She smiled and shut her eyes.

* * *

 

She was miserable for the first three days, shivering and sweating constantly as her fever spiked. Her whole body ached and the nasty cough just made it worse.

Shaw had gotten some type of flu medicine from god knows where and it helped a little with the cough and congestion, but she still felt awful.

The first time Reese tried to bring her a refill on the water, she tossed something (a tissue box maybe?) at him and after that Shaw was the only one to come in while she was awake, usually grumbling something about her being a dramatic baby.

There was a lot about those days she didn't remember clearly or was unsure about whether certain things had happened or were some vivid fever dream. Had Shaw come in to put a damp washcloth on her forehead? Did Bear sleep on the foot of her bed for a while? Did Reese hover in the doorway speaking vaguely ominous phrases in Latin? (Probably not that last one, but she couldn't be sure).

The thing she was fairly sure _had_ actually happened was, on the worst day of her fever when she'd been drenched in sweat and shaking, Shaw had suddenly been there leaning over her and her looked her right in the eyes and just said, “You're going to be fine, okay?” like it was some sort of command. And then vanished.

At least Root thought that had been real. Shaw never mentioned it.

“You look a little better,” Shaw told her on the fifth day. “Want to try to eat something a little more substantial?”

She'd been living off of water and some type of clear broth that she'd developed a deep hatred for. She wondered again where Shaw had gotten all these things, and what it had cost her.

“I guess so.” Her fever had broken, but her appetite hadn't fully returned yet. At least the thought of food no longer made her want to throw up.

‘Something a little more substantial’ turned out to be more of the horrible, clear broth, but this time with a bunch of not-quite-stale crackers. Usually Shaw left as soon as she'd brought her anything, but today she chose to sit awkwardly on the edge of the bed and stare at the floor.

“Something on your mind?” Root asked as she poked at the broth. She wasn't really hungry, and she definitely wasn't hungry for more of this stuff.

“We've been staying pretty low to the ground since we got back, but sooner or later that printer is going to spit out a new number and we're going to take it. Was hoping you could fill us in on what we might expect.”

“Expect where? In the city? I doubt much has changed here.”

“Even with Samaritan sending those things after us?”

“It doesn't know who we are. Or, rather, who _you_ are. If it did, it would have sent people here days ago. And as for outside the city–” She tried not to think about the sight on the pier as the boat had pulled away. “–I think what you saw is about what you can expect, though you might have better luck without me there.”

“It's tracking you?”

“When She spoke to me, it could use that to find me, though She says that's not the case anymore. Something we returned to Her helped Her establish a safer method of communication.” Though her...reception in the basement was spotty, but a damned sight better than the silence had been before.

Shaw nodded, still focused on the floor. “Okay. I guess that's all about what we expected, though, what the hell did Samaritan do while we were out there? What was that?”

Root winced slightly at the memory of the searing pain ripping through her head. “Remember what I said about the zombies being sensitive to certain types of sound waves?”

“Yeah, though if you tell me Samaritan was playing the monster mash for the undead, I'm kicking you out.”

“Not music. Sounds pitched below the human hearing range. They're very sensitive to it for some reason and it can be used either to lure them places or drive them away. It can also keep them calm or drive them into a frenzy. It's not a precise form of control, but it can be used quite effectively, as we found out.” That plus the zombies’ evolution was concerning, to say the least.

“Is that what caused the...weirdness, too?”

Root remembered the unnatural uneasy feeling that had progressed more and more on their trip. “Probably.” The Machine jumped in to fill in the details for her. “She says it's called infrasound, like the opposite of ultrasound. Sounds with frequencies below the human hearing range. We can't hear it, but there's been cases of it causing dread or anxiety or awe in people exposed to it.” It would have been quite fascinating under other circumstances, but currently it was just another problem on their growing list.

Shaw finally turned to look at her. “She's talking to you now?” She noticed that Root had barely touched her food and frowned in disapproval.

Root nodded and reluctantly picked her spoon back up. “On and off.”

“Guess that's one positive we got out of all this, then.”

“She says to tell you thank you. For helping get the drives to Her, I mean.”

Shaw quickly returned to her study of the floor. “Wasn't a big deal. Does she know what our next move should be? For dealing with Samaritan and this new infrasound bullshit?”

“Not yet. She's working on it.” Root wasn't completely sure _what_ She was working on, but she trusted Her to let them know when She had something.

Shaw got up a little too abruptly and stood stiffly in the middle of the room. “Well, guess that covers everything. Uh, make sure you eat the rest of that and get some more sleep.”

Root bit back a smile. “Yes, doctor.”

Shaw looked like she wanted to say something further, but then shook her head and headed for the door. She paused in the doorway.

“If you're feeling up to it, you're free to come hang out in the other room....” She shrugged helplessly and hurried out the door leaving Root amused and a little touched by the offer.

She still felt really weak and achy, but she forced herself to stagger out into the main room and curl up in her blankets in a chair at the table. Shaw was cleaning a gun on the table and grunted in acknowledgment when she joined her, but didn't say anything else. Root watched her work in silence until she drifted off, only waking up when Shaw shook her shoulder and sent her back to bed an hour later.

* * *

 

Shaw was almost amused by the way Root's lower lip stuck out in a pout. She was such a child sometimes, especially when asked to do things she'd rather not.

Like help take care of Reese now that he'd come down with her flu.

But even with the sulking, Root eventually gave in and carried the tray of food into Reese’s room. Shaw breathed out a long sigh. She had no delusions about the whole thing making the two of them get along, but she was so damn tired of taking care of sick people and it was time for someone else to take a turn. She needed a vacation.

Though there had been something a little different about taking care of Root than putting up with Reese’s dramatic whining about not being able to breathe out of his nose. Somehow with everything that had gone down, Root had turned into her responsibility whether she wanted it or not and she wasn't nearly as annoyed about that as she should be. Which was in itself really annoying.

But it hadn't been that bad taking care of her like that, and the pattern they'd fallen into over the last few days where Root came out to sit (mostly) quietly in the main room while Shaw did other stuff was sort of...nice.

“Well, _that's_ taken care of.” Root returned from Reese’s room with a nasty little smile on her face and Shaw considered going to check on Reese in case she'd knocked him out with the soup bowl.

Eh, he was probably fine.

Root settled herself in a chair and kicked her feet up on the empty chair next to her, crossing one ankle over the other. She looked a lot better in Shaw's opinion. There was color in her face now, and not the flush of fever, but a return to something more normal.

“Any exciting plans for the day?” Root had apparently gone from sick to bored out of her mind in under a day.

“Heading up to Carter’s precinct, make sure she didn't get in trouble for disappearing for our little trip.” She'd wanted to go earlier, but she'd decided it was better to wait before they were seen together, and also she'd had Root to take care of.

“Hmm, I probably shouldn't go to a police station.” Root sounded a little disappointed.

“You're not going anywhere. You're still not fully better, and someone has to babysit Reese.” Shaw almost laughed at the disgruntled look that last bit got her.

“You're not worried you're going to get sick next, Shaw?”

Shaw scoffed. “I don't get sick,” she said, willfully ignoring several instances of bad seasonal colds that came to mind.

“Wanna test that theory?” And Root actually waggled her goddamn eyebrows at Shaw and then smirked as if she thought she was the smoothest operator ever. Shaw didn't even bother to roll her eyes.

“Doubt you're contagious anymore.”

“Even better.”

Shaw realized she'd walked right into that one. Root leaned across the table towards her, eyes hooded and lips ever so slightly parted and….

Shaw couldn't hold back the laugh this time. Root sat back, looking startled and offended.

“Your nose is bright red still,” Shaw explained. Root had rubbed it raw while she'd been sick. “You look like Rudolph.”

Root’s smile and head tilt in response might have been condescending, but the way she crossed her arms and slumped in her seat gave away the sullenness beneath it. She didn't even seem to have a good comeback, for once.

“Don't think it's gonna be much fun for you if you still can't breathe out of your nose.”

Root’s smile widened and curled into a hungry grin. “Oh, trust me, there's plenty of fun to be had when it comes to, ah, restricted breathing.”

Shaw’s brain stopped working completely for half a second and she knew she was gaping vacantly at Root, but she couldn't seem to help it. She shook herself out of it and carefully cleared her throat.

“Tell you what,” she said, getting up from the table and tucking her gun away, “if you're still awake when I get back, we can talk more about my infallible immune system.”

Root brightened and opened her mouth to no doubt make some awful pun, but Shaw turned her back and hurried out of the room before she could give her the satisfaction. It only took her a few minutes to grab what she needed from her room, and she returned to the main room to find a surprise waiting for her in the form of Root dressed and ready for an outing.

“Change of plans,” she said. “I'm coming with you.”

“You can't. Samaritan…”

“Won't be able to see me.” Root held out a piece of paper that looked like it had come off the printer. “She was able to set a fake identity up to fool it. It's not perfect and I probably shouldn't do anything too suspicious, but a little walk can't hurt.”

“She did this just now?” Shaw asked as she scanned the paper.

“She was working on it for a few days and told me it was ready if I wanted to go with you. I'll have to be careful around people who might recognize me, but...”

Shaw had stopped listening. “This–” She shook the paper, violently. “–says you're my former partner from the ISA who I had a ‘steamy affair’ with.” The paper went into a lot of detail about that, enough that she wondered if Root had written it. Surely the Machine wouldn't have…?

Root raised an eyebrow. “So?”

Shaw glared silently.

“You have to admit, it explains our current status fairly well to an outsider.”

Shaw couldn't outright disagree with that, but she was still annoyed for some reason. She shoved the paper back at Root, whistled for Bear, and took off towards the stairs without waiting to see if Root followed.

* * *

 

“What was it like after the panic?” Root asked running her eyes over the empty buildings they passed. She was still a little nervous about wandering around in the open, but she had her hood pulled down to help hide her face, and, more importantly, She had assured her it was safe for now.

“Don't know. I was hurt, remember?” Shaw seemed to have gotten over sulking about the backstory the Machine had given Root and was now focused on leading them uptown towards Carter's precinct. Bear trotted along next to her, panting happily with his tongue hanging out.

“Well, I saw a little right when it happened,” Shaw said after a minute. “That's when I got shot actually. The rumour was that it was the water making people sick, which I guess was true, though not the water here. Anyway there was a run on any store that sold water in bulk and a lot of people got violent. I didn't want to get involved, but Reese…” She shrugged. “Whole gang showed up at this one place, too many of them for me and Reese to handle in a fair fight. We were getting ready to set something up to deal with them, but...there was this kid there, teenager maybe, he was scared and kind of sweaty and pale and one of the guys holding up the store decided he might be infected. Kid got out of there fine, but I took two bullets making sure he did.” She shot a sharp look at Root, as if daring her to comment. “Hospitals were an even bigger mess, so Reese and I had to dig the bullets out and patch me up.”

She'd done that without the Machine or the ISA or anyone telling her to. Normally Root would have mocked that sort of heroic nonsense, but it was Shaw, and Shaw didn't do impulsive heroics the way someone like Reese might have. She made carefully thought-out choices, and her choice in that case had been to take two bullets for a kid she didn't know. Like most revelations about Shaw, Root found it fascinating.

But she wasn't going to bring that up, so she opted for filling in the bits she knew about that day in Manhattan.

“A lot of people fled,” Root said. The Machine had given her updates on the situation across the country as it had unfolded. “There was gridlocked traffic all across the bridges and tunnels right up until Samaritan shut them down. Some people did try to swim at that point.”

The Machine had stopped giving her updates on the situation in the cities after a few weeks. There'd been more important things for her to worry about.

“Where were you that day?” Shaw asked.

Root didn't like remembering that day or the days that had followed, but she’d asked first and turnabout was fair play, she supposed.

“She had me investigating an outbreak in the suburbs in Connecticut. No one had died and come back yet when I got there, but She woke me up in the middle of that night to tell me to get out of there.”

It had been like something out of a bad horror movie, with ghoulish figures shambling out of the dark, people screaming, a building on fire. She hadn't known much about the zombies then, and neither had She, so she hadn't been prepared to fight them. She'd been damn lucky to get out of there alive and uninfected, but she'd seen a lot of very bad things that night, humanity at its worst, turning on each other rather than working together.

“Why are they even worth saving?” she'd asked Her later when she was hiding in the woods behind some highway rest stop. “They're just going to destroy themselves eventually.”

She'd been mildly shocked when the Machine had agreed that that was one of many possible outcomes, but then She'd gone on to say that whether or not humans destroyed themselves should be up to them, and not an AI.

“Humans built Samaritan.”

She’d gone quiet then until She’d told Root she needed to move again, but it was a topic they'd debated a lot over the last few years.

“Did you just hang out in the wilderness after that?” Shaw asked, breaking her out of the memory.

“I skirted the edges of towns for a long time, helping Her assess the situation. At some point though She had me focus on trying to find Her backed up data, like that briefcase.” It was what she'd originally been trying to do before the strange reports had started rolling in of a disease that made people violent and the Machine had asked her to help investigate some of the more remote locations.

“They were scattered across the country and it was hard to travel so it took a long time and I only ever found one other successfully.” Some of them weren't where the Machine had thought they'd be, some had been destroyed during the panic, and a few had been in areas the Machine had judged too dangerous.

Shaw didn't directly respond, but she nodded and Root thought she could see her putting the pieces together and maybe figuring out some of the things Root had only implied. “Must be weird to be here now after all that.”

Root looked at the broken storefront windows they passed by. She'd been in New York plenty of times before the outbreak, and while the Machine had hinted at the state of the city, nothing had quite prepared her for how different it was. The people of New York had always felt like part of the core essence of the city, and the ones who remained were scared shadows of their former selves.

Though the ones in that market had felt something like the old New York had.

“It's not what I expected, though I'm honestly not sure what I did expect, even after everything She told me about what it was like here now.”

“Oh, uh, I meant weird for you to be staying in one place.” Shaw grimaced in a way that was reminiscent of Reese. “With the same people.”

Oh.

“Yes, it is, but it's...not necessarily a bad thing.”

“Yeah?”

“There's a lot to be said for having a safe place to sleep at night. And regular showers.” She'd missed those a lot. “And I can't complain about the company. Well, some of it anyway.” She favored Shaw with a smile.

“Could probably do better than living in a basement with an AI to help you.”

“And miss out on all the perks?” She winked at Shaw, hoping to turn the conversation towards a different topic. She wasn't quite comfortable with how much she disliked the idea of going somewhere else.

Shaw rolled her eyes and looked away, but didn't pursue the topic.

They didn't talk much for the rest of the walk, and only stopped a few times to let Bear sniff some poles. Root took the time to enjoy the relatively fresh air, and stretch her limbs out. She still felt a bit lethargic, but on the whole she felt like she was finally getting back to some kind of normal.

A truck pulled away from the front of the precinct right as they got there and Root felt a little thrill of fear at the logo on the side. Samaritan. She wanted to reach for her weapons, but Shaw had only let her bring one carefully concealed gun since weapons of any sort were expressly forbidden in the city. She pulled her hood down a little more over her face.

“Supply truck doing a drop off,” Shaw said when she saw Root staring after it. “Don't suppose you know where they get all the supplies from? Figure they have stockpiles for some of it anyway.”

“They do. Among other things.” _That_ discovery had been one of the least pleasant she'd made over the years.

“You can tell me about the other things later,” Shaw said. They'd arrived at the front steps. “Try not to get us arrested, okay?”

The inside of the precinct looked vaguely like every cop tv show Root could remember from years ago, but far more empty. There were only a few people at the desks and most eyed them suspiciously. Root felt a little nervous that they might recognize her the way Carter had, but the Machine informed her that not all the cops were as good about reading up on wanted criminals as Carter.

Bear's tail started wagging furiously and he ran over to greet a man at one of the desks.

“This the crazy broad Carter told me about?” the man asked when they got over to him.

Root didn't think Carter was her biggest fan, but somehow she doubted those had been her exact words.

“This is, uh, Veronica,” Shaw said. It was the name the Machine had given Root for her backstory. “She's…” Shaw seemed at a loss as to how to explain her.

“She's _so_ glad to meet you, Detective Fusco,” Root finished for her.

“How'd she know my name?” Fusco asked, squinting at her suspiciously.

“That's just...a thing she does sometimes.”

“Shaw!” Carter's arrival saved them all from the very awkward social situation that Root suspected she'd been the only one enjoying.

“Hey, Carter.” Shaw half-smiled when Bear ran over to greet her. “Good to see you're still in one piece.”

“I can handle myself.” Carter looked past her to Root. “And you look a lot better than last time I saw you.”

“Sameen's been taking _very_ good care of me.”

Shaw stiffened a little and narrowed her eyes in warning.

“I bet she has.” Carter looked amused. “Though I'm surprised to see you out like this. Thought you were more of a stay at home type?” The real question under her words was clear.

“Veronica here thought it was time she saw some of the city,” Shaw said quickly.

“Veronica.” Carter looked her over as if testing the name against her. “Well, what did you think of what you saw, Veronica?”

“Not quite how I remembered it, but I suppose that's to be expected.”

The conversation stalled a bit after that and Shaw and Carter moved away to talk quietly together, leaving Root to amuse herself with Fusco.

“Carter tells me you and Shaw are a hot item, huh?”

Root was actually taken aback by that. Far more direct than she'd expected, and she hadn't pegged Carter as one to gossip. But then again, Carter might have approached the topic like a cop and filled her partner in on all the details, even the gossipy ones.

“Oh, yes. A _very_ hot item.” Root went for her most disturbing smile.

Fusco cringed. “More than I needed to know.”

“You brought it up.”

Fusco looked desperately over at Carter and Shaw.

“You know, Lionel, if you want to bring that cake home to Lee you should probably stop crushing it.”

Fusco looked down at the small plastic-wrapped snack cake (the kind with so many preservatives it would take years to go bad) half-buried under some papers on his desk and cursed. There'd been a box of them on the supply truck according to what the Machine had just told Root, and Fusco had snagged one before they all disappeared.

“Now how the hell did you know that?”

Root favored him with her best mysterious, all-knowing smile. It had been too long since the Machine had been able to help her pull this sort of stunt, and she'd missed it quite a lot. And maybe the Machine had as well, considering how free She was being with information now. Root thought She secretly enjoyed bewildering people as much as Root did.

“Veronica. Time to go.” Shaw had come back. She looked at Fusco’s confused face and a smile twitched on her lips.

“But we just got here. Lionel and I were getting along so well, too.”

“We'll see them both tomorrow. Invited them over for a poker night.”

Root doubted that was what they'd actually be doing, but then Shaw had said it got insanely boring here, so maybe it was.

She nodded politely to Carter, unsure about exactly where they stood, but not wanting to use up her good will (especially not since the Machine seemed to like Carter), and gave Fusco a little wave that made him scowl.

“Short visit for how long the walk was,” she said when they were back outside.

“Not safe to talk much there.”

Which must have been why she'd invited them over tomorrow. So probably not for poker after all.

“Well, I suppose the sooner we get back, the sooner we can talk about this resilient immune system of yours.”

Shaw snorted. “Guess there's a shortcut we could take then.”

* * *

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Shaw wasn't sure she'd ever seen Root as genuinely surprised as she was right then.

“Did you just have this lying around, Sameen? Through the entire apocalypse?”

Shaw looked at the bright pink dildo she'd pulled out from a box under her bed. “Not exactly.”

The truth was she'd hunted it down on a whim one of the days Root had been stuck inside sick. Just in case the opportunity ever presented itself. Sex toys were in extremely high demand in the city (the apocalypse was _really_ boring), and finding one that she trusted was actually brand new had involved calling in a few favors (the color was unfortunate, but she hadn’t had much choice in that matter). She'd still sterilized the hell out of it, and gotten condoms (also in high demand) and lube, because, you know, maybe she'd have a use for all these things when Root was feeling better. That was, if she was into that sort of thing, which, if her expression was any indication, she most definitely was.

Root reached out to finger the edge of the harness Shaw had gotten to go with it (which had been surprisingly easier to find). “So did you want me to fuck you with this, Shaw? Or did you want to fuck me with it?”

Shaw's brain played through a nice series of images and brought her to the only possible answer. “Uh, both?” She could definitely go for both.

Root chuckled. “Well, I think we'd better start out with you doing the heavy lifting until I'm completely better.”

“If you're not feeling up to it…”

“As cute as your concern is, let's skip past to the part where you fuck me.”

Partly just to be contrary (and to protest the whole ‘cute’ thing), Shaw spent a lot of time going down on Root first, one hand under her ass and the other gripping her hip hard while she took her time using her tongue and teeth to make Root squirm. She was enjoying herself enough that she'd almost forgotten what the plan was until Root prodded her meaningfully in the back with the leg she had thrown over her shoulder.

“Sameen.”

Oh, right.

There was something Shaw found almost intoxicating about watching Root's face as she slowly guided the strap-on into her. Root never held back during sex, never suppressed a single thing she was feeling from showing on her face and Shaw was entranced by the sight of it. Root's legs locked around her and her hands came up to weave through Shaw's hair and pull her down into a fierce kiss as they started a slow rhythm between them.

Shaw hadn't been sure just how worn out from her sickness Root was, but with the way she urged her on she didn't think it was going to be a problem and thank god for that because everything about this was a million times hotter than she'd imagined, from the base of the strap-on pressing against her, to the way Root writhed beneath her, her body arching up off the bed when Shaw changed her position ever so slightly, to the wet sounds coming from where she pressed the length of the strap-on into Root again and again, to the way Root drew blood when she bit down on Shaw's lip, and scraped stinging lines down her back when she came.

Shaw followed soon after, with Root's hands squeezing her ass to urge her on. And she had no idea where Root, who _supposedly_ was still recovering from being sick, got the energy from to flip them over so Shaw landed on her back with Root astride her, but she was more than happy to comply when Root grabbed her hands and placed them firmly on her own hips and then began to move again on top of her. And okay, yeah, this was pretty great, too, getting to watch from this angle as Root moved up and down on the strap-on, especially when Root threw her head back with a particularly loud moan, the column of her throat bared to the ceiling, and dug her fingers hard into Shaw’s forearms. It was hard to choose between staring up at Root's face (with her sweaty hair plastered to her neck and her eyes shut in pleasure), or down at where their bodies met and the ridiculous pink toy, shiny and wet from both lube and arousal, slid in and out of Root.

An sudden impulse seized her, no doubt fueled by Root's taunt from earlier that day, and she moved one hand from Root's hips, sliding up her side, thumb brushing hard once over a nipple, until her palm came to rest on Root's throat, caressing her neck in a question without applying any real pressure.

“Oh, fuck yes.” Root's hand was still on Shaw's forearm and she tightened her grip to pull Shaw's hand harder against her.

Shaw didn't need any more encouragement than that to tighten her grasp on Root's neck. She watched in awe as Root's eyelids fluttered and her face went slack with pleasure. Shaw was so focused on thrusting up with her hips to drive the strap-on into Root with deep, long strokes while keeping an attentive eye on Root's face as she loosened and then tightened her grip once more on her throat, that she didn't even notice how close she was herself until she realized she was about to come and let her hand fall back to Root's hip to pull her down tight against her as her orgasm crashed through her.

She opened her eyes just in time to see Root follow her over the edge, legs squeezing tight against her hips and body trembling for a long moment before she relaxed and slumped forward to rest her weight with a hand on Shaw's shoulder. Shaw pushed up off the mattress enough to kiss her, reveling in the sting of Root's mouth against her split lower lip, and the way Root parted her lips to let Shaw’s tongue in. The impromptu makeout session only lasted a few seconds before they broke apart and breathed in ragged pants against each other's lips.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Root smiled down at Shaw through half-closed eyes and there was something in that look that made alarm bells go off in Shaw's head...except the alarms went off and then nothing else happened. No itching uncomfortable urge to get away from Root, or anything she'd normally have felt. She wasn't sure quite what that meant, but she was too damn spent to care.

“Well, that was quite a ride,” Root murmured, her face still flushed red.

Shaw hadn't recovered the ability to think in coherent sentences yet, so she just nodded in agreement and ran her hands up and down Root's sides once.

Root slid off of her and collapsed into a sweaty heap next to her on the bed, any energy she’d had completely drained away now. Shaw got up to get rid of the strap-on and then looked down at the pathetic pile of Root in her bed. This part was always the worst after casual hookups, even if that wasn't really what this was anymore. Motel beds in the middle of nowhere were one thing, but this was _her_ bed and she didn't share. Ever.

But before she could figure out how to explain that, Root rallied and tried to get up, clumsily sliding across the bed in an uncoordinated way.

She must have completely burnt out her remaining energy reserves, because she didn't look like she had enough left to even get out of bed, let alone make it to the door or down the hall to her room. And sure, Shaw hadn't been planning on sharing, but Root didn't know that and she was being an idiot now thinking she could leave on her own.

Shaw sighed, slightly disgusted with herself because she knew exactly what she was going to say next.

“You're a total wreck. Just stay here, okay?”

Root looked up at her through her sweaty locks of hair, and Shaw was surprised to see the hesitation in her eyes. Maybe she wasn't the only one who was uncertain about what this whole thing was.

That realization decided her even more and she shoved Root back down and herded her to the other side, because she might be sharing but she wasn't going to cuddle no matter how sick Root was.

A shower was probably in order now, and a change of sheets, but those sounded like good problems for tomorrow. And thank god she'd checked in on Reese before they'd started this, because she was too damned beat to do that now. She turned the light off and crawled into the bed, making sure to leave space between them.

It felt a little weird lying there in the dark and saying nothing when Root was only a few inches away from her and, judging by her breathing, still awake.

She had to say _something_.

“Night, Root.” Not the best line ever, but better than nothing.

There was a pause and then. “Goodnight, Sameen.”

She woke up in the night when she heard the door shut to find the other side of the bed empty. She stared at the closed door through the darkness for a few seconds and then rolled over into the patch of warmth Root had left behind and fell back asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> root getting sick wasn't supposed to be an oh-no-she-got-bitten fake out or anything, i mostly wanted that because 1) it made the whole dash to the boat more surreal, and 2) i'm weak af for soft murder girlfriends taking care of each other when sick.


	7. Pretenses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some conversations and preparations. Team Rocket is allowed out without adult supervision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter did not want to be written. i came close to ditching it and just going straight to the next chapter, but there were too many little things i wanted to set up first to do that. it is largely set up for the next few chapters, but hopefully it's entertaining set up.

“What the fuck is that smell?”

Whatever the sharp, chemical smell was, it was destroying Shaw's nose.

Root looked up from the table in the main room, a suspiciously innocent expression on her face. “What smell?”

Shaw’s eyes honed in on the little bottle sitting on the table next to Root. “Nail polish? Really?” And it was black, too. What a fucking nerd.

Though it did kinda suit her.

“It's the little things in life, Shaw.” Root didn't pause her work, using the brush to smoothly spread the nail varnish across her pinkie fingernail.

“Well, the little things in life are giving me a headache. And upsetting Bear.” Bear was asleep on his bed in the corner, but that wasn't the point. What if it gave him bad dreams? “Next time, do it outside.”

“Whatever you say.” Root blew lightly on her nails and then held up one hand, fingers splayed out, to admire her work.

Shaw grabbed a bottle of water and dropped into the chair across from Root. It felt good to be back in the warmth of the basement. Her run had warmed her up considerably, but she'd wandered around for a few minutes after, just long enough for her sweat to turn cold on her skin. She eyed Root's freshly-painted nails critically.

“I guess you do match the whole dead-rising-from-their-graves mood with that. Bet you watched too many bad zombie movies before this started.” Though black nail polish sounded more like a bad vampire movie thing than a bad zombie movie thing.

“I'm not really a fan of zombie movies.” Root mercifully put the cap back on the polish bottle. Shaw could vaguely remember that there might have been a bottle of nail polish in the stuff that Root had gotten at the market, but she hadn't paid too much attention at the time. That was the only place she could think that Root would have found it, unless Reese had a secret stash of goth makeup somewhere.

“Why not? Don't like scary movies?”

“Hmm, not exactly. They just always end one of two ways. Either everyone dies, or the useless heroes ride off into the sunset, usually after all the interesting characters have died. Pointless either way.”

Shaw slowly snuck her hand across the table to try and confiscate the offensive bottle, but Root snatched it up before she could get to it and dropped her free hand on top of Shaw’s. Shaw drew back immediately and glared, only to find Root looking insufferably smug, laughter dancing in her eyes.

Asshole.

“So if you don't like happy endings and you don't like unhappy endings, how are the movies supposed to end?” she asked to move things away from Root’s obnoxious behavior.

Root shrugged and held her nails up for inspection again. “Maybe I just don't like endings,” she said quietly.

And now things were weirdly serious. Shaw stood up, planning to retreat to the shower.

“Just don't use that shit inside again.”

“Of course,” Root said, though her smile suggested that she planned to completely ignore the request. She looked Shaw up and down, as if only now registering that she'd just gotten back from a run and was sweaty and gross. Her smile widened. “Want company in the shower?”

“Our water supplies won't last for that.”

“And here I thought showering together would save water.”

“Not the type of shower you have in mind.” Though it did sound fun. Stupid apocalypse.

“Shaw.”

Root's voice stopped her halfway across the room. She glanced back to find Root turned in her chair to face her. Root studied her in silence for a long moment and then shook her head.

“Nevermind.”

Well, she was definitely being weird, but that was hardly Shaw's problem. Shaw turned away and went to take her shower.

* * *

 

“This is a terrible idea.”

Root was half-amused, half-annoyed at John's continuous grumbling. His sullen look might have been at least partly from having been bed ridden with the flu for so long, but it also probably had something to do with their current expedition.

“It'll be fine, John. Trust me.” Root pulled her hood up over her head and tugged it into place. She wasn't completely sure that it _would_ be fine, but she wasn't about to let John know that.

The human leaders of Samaritan didn't make appearances that often, and even if nothing important was said, Root wasn't going to miss it. Carter had told them about this appearance when she and Fusco had been over, saying that she'd heard some real bigwigs from Samaritan were going to be there.

Root wondered what would happen if she just opened fire on them. It would solve nothing, but the idea of it was intensely satisfying.

“Shaw is going to kill me,” John lamented as he followed her down the street.

“Quite possibly.” Not her problem. None of them were supposed to go to this thing, a decision they'd all reached unanimously, but Root had been gripped by some unshakable urge to see the faces of the Samaritan leaders in person, hear them speak.

Since the Machine had agreed that it was a terrible idea, She hadn't given Root directions on how to get there, so Root had needed a guide, and John, for all his complaining, hadn't taken much convincing. She rather suspected he'd wanted to go, too.

“Can I ask you about something?” John seemed to have gotten over his impending death because he sounded like his usual monotone self.

“No.” This wasn't bonding time.

“Fine.”

The silence dragged out for five long minutes before Root gave in to her overwhelming curiosity.

“What did you want to ask?” If he looked smug she was going to steal his gun again.

But John didn't look at all smug when he turned back towards her. “If we could actually take down Samaritan, and there was a vaccine or cure or something for the zombie virus thing, what would happen after that? According to the Machine, I mean.”

“What's left of humanity gets to try and rebuild the world.” She wasn't sure what that entailed, but she didn't need to know yet. The Machine would tell her what to do when it was time.

“What would that even look like? What we had before, or something completely new?”

“That's not up to me.”

“Would it be up to the Machine?”

Was that his real worry here? That they'd be trading one AI for another?

“No. Humanity's future is their own to choose. That's Her stance on it, I mean.”

John nodded to himself. “And what will you do then?”

Root opened her mouth to respond and then paused, realizing she didn't have an answer. She hadn't thought about it at all. She'd always been so focused on carrying out whatever mission the Machine had for her that she hadn't spent much time thinking about what place she'd have in this new world they were fighting for. Well, other than for one part.

“I'll continue working for Her.” It was the safe answer, and also true.

“And nothing else?”

Root pretended to be interested in the shattered remains of a storefront to give herself a few seconds to think. A few weeks ago, her answer would have satisfied her, but now it didn't feel quite complete. There was no doubt in her mind that she wanted to continue working for Her for the rest of her life, but maybe that wasn't all she wanted?

Either way, it was probably irrelevant.

“Root?” John asked, either not noticing or ignoring her attempt to shut him down.

“It's a pointless question, Lurch. The chances of us succeeding to do any of that are incredibly slim, and the chances of living through the attempt are even slimmer.” She tried not to think about the next mission she had planned. No point worrying about something she couldn't change.

“I suppose that's fair.” He sounded tired, as if he also knew better than to believe he could survive what was coming, and when Root looked up and met his eyes she found herself wishing for the first time that she'd paid more attention to his file all those years ago. Maybe the Machine could get her a copy.

“We’re almost there.” John pointed up ahead. “Another two blocks to the square. You have somewhere in mind for us to hide?”

The compromise she'd made with him was that if they went they'd stay hidden the whole time. She'd planned to anyway, but she'd let him think it was a point he'd won.

“Working on it.” The Machine hadn't wanted her to go, but Root knew She wouldn't leave her unprotected now that she was here, and sure enough, She gave her some quick directions that led them to the back of a large building.

John came in handy again by breaking the door open for them, a few hard slams of his shoulder dealing with the shitty lock.

“I could get used to having a human battering ram around,” Root said, eyeing the wreckage of the door.

“Good to be appreciated.”

They exchanged insincere, condescending smiles (teeth bared), before John motioned for Root to go first and then followed her into the dark building.

The room they entered must have been some type of storage room for a kitchen, and the stench of rotting food overwhelmed her, nearly making her wretch.

There'd been plenty of other doors into this building, and yet _this_ was where the Machine had sent them? Root frowned. Was She capable of being petty?

They quickly escaped into the hall and after a few twists and turns found their way out into a large, open room.

“What was this place?” Root asked, staring out into a large entryway atrium they'd come in the back of.

“Student center for a university, I think,” John said. “A lot of college buildings in this area. Most of the students tried to flee the city during the outbreak, get home to their families. All the buildings are pretty much deserted now.”

Root could fill in a lot of the blanks he'd left in that story.

Out the front window she could see people milling around, more of them than there'd been even at the market. They were far enough back that they'd be hard to spot, but she wasn't taking any chances.

“We need somewhere we can watch from without being seen. Is there anywhere like that here?”

John looked at her strangely. “I've never been in this building before.”

“I wasn't talking to _you_.” Root headed around a pile of broken chairs to the big staircase leading up to the second floor. “She says there's a place upstairs we can watch from.”

The location the Machine directed her to was a balcony on the second floor that overlooked the park in front of the building. The park was swarming with people, more than Root had ever expected to see in one place at one time again, all focused on a makeshift stage that had been set up near the large stone archway that towered over the park. They were too far away to see the stage well, but it was clear no one was on it yet. What she _could_ make out was Samaritan’s logo printed on a banner that hung at the back of the stage.

“Is this how Samaritan usually does this sort of thing?” Root asked. It seemed fairly unspectacular, but then again an organized event with a stage and a working microphone was practically a miracle these days.

“More or less. They generally have a thing like this once a month where they come out and explain all the ways in which they're helping save humanity and then threaten everyone a bit.”

“What's left to threaten them with?” In her experience there was always something that could be used to intimidate an individual, but what would work uniformly on this many people in this shit hole world where they'd already lost so much?

“Exile from the city without supplies.”

“Ah.” Obvious now that she thought about it. Being thrown out into a mass of zombies was worse than a death sentence.

“It's the way they treat all criminals, regardless of the severity of the crime. No tolerance policy.” John had taken out a pair of binoculars to scan the crowd below.

“And your friend Carter arrests them.”

John lowered the binoculars to look at her. “Joss protects people by not arresting them. She lets criminals go on a regular basis, because stealing food isn't worth a death sentence. Protecting those people was one of the reasons she decided to stay on the force despite everything.” He turned back to his surveillance. “She's one of the good guys, I promise.”

Root didn't really disagree with him, but even before the apocalypse she hadn't trusted cops. It was hard to unlearn that, even under the circumstances.

She couldn't see as much as John without the binoculars, but she leaned over the railing a little to sweep her eyes over the crowd below. Something caught her eye and she smacked John in the arm.

“Give me those.”

John tightened his grip on his binoculars. “In a minute.”

“Now, John. I think I see something…” She tried to yank them away, but he held on firmly and it turned into an all out tug-o-war match, both of them glaring at each other.

Root changed tactics, putting on her saddest face with big puppy dog eyes and pouting her lower lip out. John's eyes narrowed, but after a second he gave in and let her have the binoculars.

Root immediately turned back to the crowd and raised the binoculars to her eyes. Yep, she'd been right.

“That's Shaw down there.” She'd recognize that profile anywhere.

“Shaw's here?” John sounded surprised which was understandable considering how adamant Shaw had been about none of them going.

“Definitely Shaw.” She was standing a bit apart from the crowd, leaning against a tree and keeping an eye on everyone. She had her arms crossed and even though they were well-hidden by her oversized camo coat, Root took a minute to imagine what her arms must look like right now under it and then caught her breath when Shaw turned her head causing the tendon in her neck to stand out starkly. It was unfair how much she could affect Root even from this distance.

She and Shaw had fucked a couple more times since the almost-sleepover, but the option of staying in Shaw's bed after hadn't come up again, and Root wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed. All she knew was that she'd woken up in the middle of the night in Shaw's bed with Shaw sleeping next to her and had felt an overwhelming desire to curl up in the curve of Shaw's body and soak up her warmth.

And she'd felt something else, too, something she recognized as both inevitable and dangerous and something she thought would absolutely make Shaw uncomfortable. Sex was something openly shared and consensual between them, but this longing was her problem to manage. So she'd left and Shaw had never mentioned it and maybe that was for the best.

“So she gets to run off and do whatever she wants, but we're grounded?” John sounded like he was gearing up for some intense sulking.

Root watched as someone walked over to talk to Shaw.

“Carter is with her.”

“ _Carter_ , too?” Reese sounded lost and betrayed.

“Looks like it.” Root lowered the binoculars a little. “Shaw and Carter are they…? I mean did they ever…?”

“Are they what?” John looked more bewildered by the moment. “Root, are they what?”

“Oh, nothing.” Root went back to her binoculars, holding back a laugh.

“It's my turn.” John tried to get the binoculars back, but Root stubbornly held onto them.

“You had a longer turn than I did to start out with, John.”

“They're _my_ binoculars.”

Another brief shoving match ensued, but was ended abruptly when they heard feedback from the speakers on the stage below.

“Fuck.” Root relinquished the binoculars in favor of holding a hand to her bad ear. It wasn't anywhere near as bad as before, but someone was broadcasting at a nasty low frequency that didn't play well with her implant. The Machine hurried to assure her again that She was looking into ways to shield her from the noise.

“You okay?” John looked genuinely worried, something Root still wasn't used to from him.

“They're broadcasting infrasound. Not a lot, but enough to make everyone down there uncomfortable. Probably want to make everyone nervous before they come out and talk about how great they are and how they're our only chance of survival, etc. Then they cut the sound and suddenly everyone feels better. Clever really.”

John grimaced. “I wonder if they figured out how to use it on people after using it on the zombies, or the other way around.”

It was a surprisingly astute question, and one which Root didn't have an answer to.

“Looks like Samaritan’s second in command decided to show up this time,” John said, focused on the stage. “He does like to put on a show.”

Root squinted down at the tiny figure. “Jeremy Lambert,” she said, echoing the Machine. “Definitely not the brains of the operation, nor the brawn.”

“You've heard of him?”

“She has.”

“She probably knows about her, too, then.” John pointed at a woman standing on the edge of the stage.

Root held out her hand for the binoculars so she could get a closer look. The Machine informed her the woman's name was Martine Rousseau, Samaritan’s Director of Security, and filled in some bits and pieces of her background, enough for Root to figure out that _she_ was the brawn of the group and a rather nasty piece of work. She definitely held herself like a soldier, standing straight and to attention with her hands clasped behind her. Something about the way she moved her head while watching the crowd reminded Root of some type of predator. A bird of prey maybe.

There were other people on the stage, armed soldiers from the look of them. In a city full of theoretically unarmed civilians, Samaritan found it necessary to have soldiers with machine guns in attendance for a simple public announcement.

“Greer isn't here?” She'd been hoping to get a look at the human head of Samaritan.

“He never shows up to these,” John said. “No one's seen him since the early days. There's a popular rumor that he's actually dead. Also a rumor that he's some sort of zombie general or something now. And a rumor that he was abducted by aliens.” John shrugged when she shot him a dubious look. “People are bored.”

“Greer isn’t dead.” The Machine knew that much at least.

“Shame. Would killing him help anything?”

“Yes and no. Samaritan, the AI, isn't going to become less efficient without him, but Samaritan, the organization, might until the AI could find a suitable replacement.”

“So what should…”

Reese didn't get to finish his question, because Lambert decided to start giving his speech below them in the square.

“Good afternoon, citizens of New York City. Let me start out by expressing what an honor it continues to be to serve you, and…”

Root was already bored. “Do these speeches go on long?”

“You're the one who wanted to come here.”

Lambert spent a lot of time talking about “building a strong community” and “putting aside personal grievances to focus on the big picture”, which, on the surface, weren't bad things (at least for people who actually cared about their community), but Root could hear the other messages hidden in his carefully chosen words: protesting mistreatment is selfish, don't cause trouble, needing help is a burden on the community, reporting your neighbors is protecting us all, only Samaritan can be trusted, safety through conformity.

Lambert's smug little face made Root want to shoot him.

“I suppose people eat this up,” she said, looking out over the attentive crowd. “Anything to make their own lives easier.”

“Some do,” John admitted. “You'd think that the apocalypse would break down the societal hierarchies we had, maybe make people ease up on their own prejudices. But a lot of people cling to them even more strongly.”

“I'd never be naive enough to expect anything different.”

“Then why even bother trying to save the world?”

“She asked me to.”

Reese didn't have a response to that and they both went back to listening to Lambert's speech in silence.

* * *

 

Shaw shifted her weight back and forth as the presentation dragged on. Why had she wanted to come to this farce again? At least Lambert had finished now and some other Samaritan agent she didn't recognize was droning on about resources.

“Any word from your house guest or her boss on what our next move is?” Carter asked quietly from next to her.

“Not really.”

Root had been acting a little oddly, but when had she ever not?

“I'm not waiting forever for...her boss to make up her mind. People are dying. You know they did a sweep of the cells again last night?” Carter's voice was full of quiet rage.

Shaw frowned. Every once in a while a bunch of Samaritan troops would show up at random precincts and remove anyone who happened to be in the holding cells at the time. It was never clear what happened to any of them after, but they definitely were never seen again. She wondered if Root would know.

“How many people did they take?”

“Only two in the cells last night, and neither of them were worth sticking my neck out for, but they still deserved a fair trial.”

“Or a clean death.” Because whatever Samaritan had done with them was probably worse.

“We had some ideas before Ro...Veronica showed up. Maybe it's time we revisited them.”

None of their ideas had been more than conjecture and vague plans. Root and the Machine offered far more potential, but it was true they'd both been silent the last few days.

Shaw wondered if Root's weirdness had anything to do with the night she'd snuck out of Shaw's bed in the middle of the night. She had a suspicion that it had to do with that look she'd seen in Root's eyes that night, and, well, they were probably going to have to figure that out at some point.

She didn't enjoy those types of talks, especially in the case where she wasn't completely sure what her position was. The whole thing was complicated as hell and she hated complicated. But she also hated the careful distance Root had kept between them ever since.

What a mess.

“Head back with me after this and we'll talk to her,” she said to Carter. Fighting Samaritan talks she could manage at least.

Carter opened her mouth to respond, but a new voice cut in from behind them.

“Ah, Ms. Shaw, I was wondering if you'd attend today.”

Shaw groaned internally and turned around to stare blankly at Lambert’s dumb face.

“Not in the mood for another pitch, _Jeremy_.” He hated being addressed by his first name.

“Perhaps you'd reconsider if I told you that we’re currently on the look out for a fugitive who was also wanted by your former employers.”

Root. Shaw wasn't sure how she knew, but she was positive he was talking about Root.

“Nope, still really don't care. Possibly even more so.” What had Root done to piss of the ISA?

Oh right, the Machine. Still, there was a story there and she wanted to know. She'd have to ask Root later.

“Your skillset and that of your friend John Reese are wasted here. Samaritan could give you a purpose, and a much better quality of life.”

“Answer is always going to be no. I'm enjoying my retirement. Stop wasting both our time.”

Lambert smiled, patronizing and sleazy. “I do hope you reconsider, Ms. Shaw. We'll be talking again soon, I'm sure.”

“You think that wanted fugitive might be Veronica?” Carter asked as they watched Lambert walk away. It was understandable that she'd hung back during Shaw's confrontation with him; the last thing they needed was Lambert investigating Carter. “Think he knows that we know her?”

“No.” If Lambert knew Root was working with them the conversation would have gone much differently, Shaw was sure.

The presentation up on stage had ended while she'd talked to Lambert, and the crowds were starting to clear away.

“You coming back with me?” she asked.

“I'm off duty for the day, so might as well. Let's hope Veronica is feeling talkative.”

When they got back to the basement they encountered an unusual sight. Root and Reese were both sitting at the main table together reading books and appeared to be tolerating each other's presence. Shaw narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Did Root look a little out of breath? Why were they both wearing coats and shoes? And why was Reese’s book upside down?

“You two went to the meeting.” Carter sounded positive.

Reese actually had the decency to look guilty, but Root didn't bat an eye.

“So did Shaw.”

She had a point there.

“Carter came over to discuss our plan with us,” Shaw said, changing the subject quickly.

Reese gave up on the pretense of reading his book. “What plan?”

“Exactly,” Carter said. “We need one, because Samaritan is just tightening their hold more and more and we're not doing anything. Before Root showed up we were working on a plan to strike a real blow against them, but now we're spinning our wheels again.”

“She's working on a plan,” Root said, calmly. “She'll let us know when She's ready.”

“And how long is she going to be working on it?” Carter asked as she took a seat at the table.

She was considerably more confrontational about it then she'd been in the past, Shaw noted. Samaritan hauling off the prisoners must have really gotten under her skin this time.

Root and Carter were engaged in a stare-down, both looking equally stubborn. Reese inched his chair back from the table.

There was something else going on here, Shaw realized. Root wasn't one to sit around and wait no matter what the Machine told her. Her and her AI god were up to something without the rest of them.

“You found the location of another briefcase, didn't you?” It would explain part of how weird she'd been acting the last few days, and it was the only thing that made sense because what other type of mission could Root possibly hope to pull off without backup?

Not that she could have pulled off that last mission on her own.

Root’s face went carefully blank. “We're investigating several leads.”

“Bullshit. How are you planning on going after it without a car?” Not that their car was in any shape to go anywhere. Reese had been looking into getting them a new one, but for right now they were stuck.

Root remained stubbornly silent, propping up her book (which Shaw noticed was Reese’s copy of Dracula) and squinting at it intensely.

There were only two options here. Either Root was planning to take off for good after this new briefcase (which didn't sound right to Shaw after all the trouble the Machine had gone to to send her here), or….

“It's in the city, isn't it?”

Root sighed and put her book down. “It is, but it's not somewhere it's going to be easy to get to.”

“As opposed to what we went through for the last one?” Reese asked.

“Is it in one of the subway lines?” Shaw asked. The only places undead were a problem in the city was underground.

“Wrong type of danger, Shaw. It's...in a Samaritan building.”

Everyone fell silent to think through the implications of that. Even if they could somehow survive breaking into a building full of Samaritan agents, there'd be cameras everywhere. Anyone who went would be exposed to Samaritan.

“Does Samaritan know what it has?” Carter asked. “What could they do with it?”

“They don't know.” Root toyed with the book on the table, bending one of the corners back and forth. Reese watched the assault on his book with a pained expression. “It's in a storage room in the basement of one of their labs, though they have no clue it's there. But if I try to get it and fail, they're going to figure it out.”

“Which is why it'd be really dumb to go alone.” Because Shaw was certain that was what she'd been planning to do.

“Shaw…”

“When are you going after it?”

Root gave up. “Tomorrow night. There's less staff in the building at night and the plan was to be in and out before morning.”

“Well, I didn't have any plans tomorrow night,” Shaw said. She turned to the others and raised an eyebrow in question.

“I’m in.” Reese looked eager.

“So am I.” Carter looked a little more cautious, but it was clear she wasn't going to be left out.

“That's settled then.” Shaw dug a map of the city out of a drawer and unfolded it on the table. “Root? Where are we headed?”

Root chewed her lip for a few seconds and then shrugged and pointed to a place on the map a bit north of them. “She has some specifics on the building, but there's a lot we won't know going in.”

It wasn't going to be an easy part of town to get to undetected, but Shaw had a few ideas already.

“Okay, so we're going to need a few things to make this work.”

* * *

 

“What gives?”

Root looked up from where she was tucking her pack under her bed to find Shaw leaning against her door frame. She wondered how long she'd been standing there. Had she just shown up or had she been staring at Root's butt for the last few minutes?

“What do you mean?” She straightened up and sat on the edge of the bed.

Shaw scowled. “You know exactly what I mean. What gives with you running off on some crazy mission without telling us about it? The Machine tell you to do that?”

She'd told Root _not_ to do that, but She'd also given her the odds on all of them getting out of there alive.

“There's a good chance this will be a one-way trip. Didn't seem right to drag anyone else into that.”

It was more than that, though. She'd thought she'd been willing to do whatever it took to carry out Her missions, but when she'd heard the odds, she'd hesitated. Apparently there were some things she wasn't okay with risking. It was a new development and her timing was lousy, but she couldn't escape the tiny sliver of fear that ran through her at the idea of Shaw ending up as just another statistic in this war.

And almost as terrifying was the expression on Shaw's face that told Root that she absolutely knew all that.

“Root, listen…” Shaw broke off almost immediately and studied the wall above the bed as if looking for answers.

Clearly it was time to defuse the situation.

“Can you really blame me for not wanting to risk the best sex I've had in the last decade?” she asked with a teasing smile.

Shaw immediately looked back down at her. “Only the last decade?” She sounded genuinely insulted.

“Well, there was this one girl in Provence…”

Her ploy worked perfectly because Shaw kicked the door shut and more or less pounced on her, knocking her back across the bed. She laughed breathlessly as Shaw got tangled up in her efforts to pull her shirt over her head.

Most of their clothes were strewn across the floor when Shaw paused, pulling back from sucking a mark onto the side of Root’s neck to look down at her. A few long strands of hair had escaped her ponytail and hung down framing her face. Root fought down the urge to reach up and tuck them back behind Shaw's ear. Shaw's expression was unusually intent right then, and god she was so gorgeous that it made Root's breath catch every time.

“Listen,” Shaw said again, quiet but determined. “This, uh, this...all of this isn't going to work unless we can trust each other.”

Root froze, her heart hammering in her ear. This was definitely not what she'd expected Shaw to say at all. And judging by Shaw's expression, she wasn't completely comfortable saying it.

“Okay,” she said, echoing the way Shaw had responded to so many of her confessions. An acknowledgment that didn't push the matter further. But there was one thing she felt she owed it to Shaw to add. “Next time I'll tell you.” She'd try to at least.

Shaw studied her for another second and then gave a small nod as if satisfied.

And now, Root decided, it was definitely time to move things back in the opposite direction. She squirmed around under Shaw enough that she could reach under the bed and fish out the surprise she'd hidden there.

“Speaking of trust….”

“Where the hell did you get those?” Shaw asked, her eyes lighting up at the handcuffs that Root dangled from one finger.

“Might have pinched them from Lionel when he was here for poker night. Oops.”

Shaw snorted. “I'm not going to stop Carter from kicking your ass if she finds out you're stealing police property.”

“Mmm, you'd probably enjoy watching that.”

Shaw rolled her eyes and almost hid her small grin. “Whatever. Now are you gonna tie me up or what?”

Later, when they were both thoroughly worn out, Root recognized that they'd hit the point where one of them would usually leave. Since they were in her room it was Shaw's turn to beat a hasty retreat, but Shaw was busy proudly examining the red marks the cuffs had left on her wrists and didn't seem to have any intention of moving.

“I'm not going to sneak off in the middle of the night,” Root said, wondering if that was Shaw's concern here.

“Didn't think you were.” Shaw looked away from her wrists and finally seemed to register their situation. “This bed is tiny. Should make Reese steal you a full size one.” She squeezed out past Root to stand up and stretch.

Root wasn't sure whether to be disappointed or relieved.

Shaw looked at her like she was trying to make a decision. Finally she shook her head and started gathering up her clothes. “My bed is a lot bigger, you know.”

“Maybe I should just steal yours then.”

“That's not what I…” Shaw sighed, frustrated. “Look, are you coming, or what?”

It hadn't occurred to Root that it had been an invitation. She thought about the last time she'd stayed in Shaw's bed when she'd been too fucked out to even walk. This was different. This was an invitation, one which Shaw absolutely understood the implications of. And even if Root wasn't completely sure how all this worked, there was a chance that after tomorrow she might not ever get another opportunity to find out.

She almost tripped getting out of bed that fast to grab her clothes.

Shaw snorted. “Bring the cuffs.”

They fell asleep on opposite sides of the bed, but Root woke up in the morning with the warmth of Shaw's body pressed against her side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> forgot to add this when I originally posted, but the building Root and Reese are in is very loosely based on the Kimmel Center at NYU looking out over Washington Sq Park.


	8. Team Mayhem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> soft murder almost-girlfriends, mayhem twins shenanigans, creepy shit, Drama™

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning: there's a lot of creepy zombie shit in this chapter

“I just want to be sure this is the best option.”

Root’s voice woke Shaw up and she slowly took stock of her situation. She was in her own bed, lying on her stomach, and Root was still next to her. This time Root had stayed the whole night.

“Maybe there's another way to get to it. We could cause a distraction. Light a building on fire. I haven't gotten to do that in a while.”

Root was on her side, facing away from Shaw, but her back was pressed into Shaw's side. Somehow Shaw's arm had ended up draped over Root during the night and she'd lost feeling in it from the angle. She couldn't move it now or Root would know she was awake.

“No, I know you're right, I just don't _like_ it.” Root sounded ruefully amused.

She had to be talking to the Machine. Shaw knew she should probably let Root know she was awake now and not listen in on what was almost certainly a private conversation, but her curiosity about Root's connection to the Machine won out over being polite. Also it was her damn bed that Root was having this private conversation in.

“It was just us for so long, and, well, I guess I'm not used to having backup.”

They must have been talking about the mission tonight. Shaw had lied a little when she'd said she didn't think Root would sneak off in the night, because that sounded _exactly_ like something Root would do and it was part of what had decided her on inviting Root to sleep here.

Part of it.

Though Root had sounded sincere enough when she'd said she'd tell her stuff in the future.

“I'm not used to that either,” Root continued. “Never had to worry about anyone else before. Except for...well, not for a long time.” She shifted a little on the bed (the movement jarring Shaw's arm) and for a moment Shaw was worried she'd roll over, but she stayed in much the same position. “And I don't want to risk losing you again.”

There was almost something raw about how Root said the last part and Shaw was no longer comfortable with spying. She was trying to think of how to fake waking up when the arm she had thrown over Root twitched as the blood started returning to it.

Root rolled over to find her wide awake. Fortunately she mostly looked amused.

“Good morning, Sameen.”

“Hey.” She couldn't think of a better response. She didn't do sleepovers or mornings afters or anything like that, and while she kind of wanted to distance herself from all this, she didn't want to kick Root out. But it would be ridiculous for her to leave her own room.

“Do you need me to go?”

Root didn't sound worried or annoyed. It was just a question, one that said she'd noticed Shaw’s discomfort and was offering to give her space.

And having that option made it a little easier.

Shaw shook her head.

“Are you sure?” Root asked. “Because you're kind of...twitching.”

Shaw scowled. “My arm's asleep.” It was really fucking uncomfortable.

A small smile curled on Root's lips and she reached out to poke at Shaw's arm.

Shaw pulled her arm away and rolled onto her back, making a face when the motion made the pins and needles worse. “Knock it off. You're not helping.”

“Hmmm, actually I know a really good cure for that.”

“Oh yeah?” Shaw asked and then immediately felt dumb when Root shoved the blankets the rest of the way off of them, slid down her body, and settled between her legs.

Shaw forgot about her arm almost immediately.

* * *

 

“How long were you at the Samaritan meeting yesterday?” Shaw asked after what she deemed was an appropriate amount of time for Root to recover.

Root laughed--her breathing still a little thready against Shaw's chest--and rolled over to lie on her side next to Shaw.

“I know you're not much of one for pillow talk, sweetie, but Samaritan is definitely a buzz kill.” Root looked back at her, considering. “We left almost right after Lambert stopped bothering you and scuttled off.”

So she had seen that part. Shaw waited for her to press for details, but she seemed content to wait.

“He's been trying to recruit me for years. Moron.”

“He must be a very poor judge of character then.”

“Guess so.” Shaw looked up at the ceiling and decided to ask her real question. “He said they were after a fugitive that the ISA had been trying to find before the outbreak.”

“Ah.”

Shaw waited, but apparently Root wasn't going to help her out here.

“Had a hunch that you might be the person he was talking about. You said you'd hacked the ISA and you were involved with the Machine back then…?” She turned back to Root.

Root sighed. Her face was still flushed and her hair was stuck to her in sweaty strands, but she looked tired rather than turned on now and Shaw almost regretted asking.

“I had a few run-ins with your former associates before the outbreak. None of them were pleasant. One of them was particularly unpleasant. I don't think you ever met Control, did you?”

“Didn't have the pleasure.” Though Shaw had tried to track her down a few times. She hadn't even been positive that she was a ‘she’ until right now, though she'd strongly suspected.

“She had a long chat with me one day. Had a lot of questions about the Machine and my connection to Her. Afraid I didn't help her out much, especially since I went a bit hard of hearing in the middle of it.”

Shaw felt a slight jolt run through her, almost like anger but not quite the same. She’d seen the scar behind Root's ear a few times now, enough to know that whoever had stitched it up the first time had done a lousy job, and that the original cut hadn't been made professionally. “Control did that?”

“Among other things.” Root was the one avoiding eye contact now.

“Did you kill her?”

“No.”

“Is she still alive?”

“...no.”

“Hmm, too bad. Reese and I had some unfinished business with her, too. We could have made tracking her down a weekend project.” Her last mission with Reese in the city had almost gone sideways, even before the outbreak, and they'd both strongly suspected that they hadn't been meant to survive it.

Root’s face softened a little. “Sounds like fun. But I'm glad she's dead.”

Shaw rolled over onto her side to face Root and reached out one hand towards her face. Root tensed a little, but Shaw didn't go anywhere near her ear and instead dragged a finger down the length of the scar on her jaw, and then detoured up to her mouth. Root relaxed and bit playfully at her finger.

Shaw glanced back over her shoulder at the little clock on the table across from her bed.

“We've still got an hour before we need to get up.” She rolled over on top of Root and easily pinned her wrists when Root tried to grab her ass. “Wait your turn.”

Root hooked a leg over Shaw and pressed herself up against her, making Shaw exhale sharply and almost lose her grip on Root's wrists.

Root leaned up and put her lips right by Shaw's ear.

“Make me.” Her voice was a harsh whisper.

Maybe, Shaw thought, there was something to be said for morning afters.

* * *

 

“This is a terrible plan.” It was the third time John had said that since they'd come down into the subway and Root was starting to think she could make it into a drinking game.

“We've carried off worse plans.” Shaw didn't look even slightly worried.

“I remember some of those plans, so that's not really reassuring,” Carter said.

Root held back a laugh. Despite how apprehensive she was about the whole thing, there was something fun about heading out on a mission with the others. She'd never been part of a team before.

“This is as far as we've cleared,” Shaw said, coming to a halt. She dropped the rope she'd been using to help John drag the little sled they'd hooked up along the tracks. On top of the wooden sled sat the generator they'd previously used for lighting down here.

Ahead of them, the subway tracks disappeared under a massive cave in, one that had no doubt been purposefully manufactured when Samaritan had locked down the subways.

“There's a way through over there--” Shaw pointed at a side passage. “--but it's sealed off. Once we open it we're on a clock. Need to draw any undead far enough away for us to get through.”

“What could possibly go wrong?” John asked.

Shaw gave him a look. “Reese you’ve come up with some of the worst plans I've ever seen in my life, so shut it.”

“What about Denmark, Shaw? Whose brilliant idea was that?”

“Your way out would have ended up with one of us dead.”

Root turned to Carter. “Does this happen a lot?”

Carter snorted. “Less than you'd guess. I think they're both just nervous.”

“Maybe one of us should go instead of one of them. Their bickering might draw the zombies right to them.”

“I'm surprised it hasn't already.”

Reese and Shaw must have heard them because they both turned around to glare.

“Let's just get this over with,” John said, resigned.

They had to pry some sheet metal off from over an old door, something that it was very hard to do quietly. Root helped Carter keep watch for potential incoming zombies even though there shouldn't have been any on this side of the door. Couldn't be too careful.

“Last time we came through here there weren't any on this track for another ten minutes along or so,” Shaw said when they finally stepped through the door into the darkness beyond. “You two should wait at the first place where the track splits.”

“You sure you don't want one of us to go?” Carter asked again.

“We've got this.” Reese hefted his mace in a way that was probably supposed to be reassuring.

“This really is a terrible plan,” Root mused as she watched Shaw and Reese vanish into the darkness, straining to hold the generator between them.

“A lot of it relies on your theory that the generator is what drew the zombies in the first place.” Carter had her sword out and was keeping a close eye on the shadows surrounding them as they moved quietly down the tracks.

“It's not a theory. She's quite sure now.”

“Shaw did say your AI was never wrong before. I suppose that counts for something. Though I still don't get how this little stunt is going to help us in the long run.”

Root wasn't sure they should be talking here of all places, but the heavy darkness around them made her glad for the sound.

“Without Her we have no way of bringing Samaritan down. Making Her stronger is improving our chances.”

“Will she be able to do anything if this mission works?”

“I'm not sure.”

“Are there more of these briefcases lying around Manhattan, or are you going to vanish after this?”

Root sensed a trap in the question, but she wasn't quite sure what it was.

“There's none that I know of, but She didn't tell me about this one until recently. Why? Didn't think you'd miss me much if I left.”

“ _I_ wouldn't.”

Ah. That was the trap.

Root avoided her gaze. There were questions she was dying to ask about Shaw's past, things that hadn't been in her file, but she wouldn't. Not from Carter, and probably not even from Shaw.

“What made you decide to stay on the police force?” she asked instead.

“Police still have a little bit of power here, and access. We get to carry weapons, get first dibs on supplies, and a say over who lives and who dies, which is something no one should have. But I'd rather be able to say who lives than do nothing, and carrying a weapon lets me protect people who need it.”

“And the supplies?”

“I take the best I can and make sure the people who need them get them.”

“You really are a saint, aren't you?” Root couldn't help the touch of condescension in her voice. The police had failed her back when she'd actually needed them, too ignorant and lazy to lift a finger, and here Carter was acting like some hero.

“No. Just trying to be a decent person.”

“What's the point in that?”

Carter was silent for a few seconds. “I get the feeling you like being wrapped up in your cynicism, so let me put it in terms you might get. I've saved Reese and Shaw's lives more than once, covered for them and helped them escape notice. They've done the same for me. Now you don't care about me and John much, but without us trying to fight back and help each other none of us would have made it. Including Shaw.”

“Covering for your friends is one thing, but…”

“I didn't know who the hell they were the first time I let them get away. Just knew they didn't deserve to die.”

Root let out an exasperated sigh. It wasn't the same thing somehow, not to her anyway. This reminded her a little of debates she'd had with the Machine, which was a bit of a shock actually. She was beginning to understand why the Machine liked Carter so much.

“Why did you ask?” Carter sounded genuinely interested.

Root found herself telling the truth around Carter more than she would have liked. “Because Shaw likes you. And so does She.”

“The Machine likes me?”

“She seems to be a fan.” Which was a bit irking.

Carter didn't respond and when Root looked over at her, she seemed lost in thought. This time Root let the silence stand.

* * *

 

“So, uh, about Root…” Shaw regretted the words the minute they left her mouth.

“What about her?” Reese asked in a tone that said he was also regretting her words.

They were both breathing hard from lugging the heavy generator through the abandoned subway tunnels and Shaw had bruises all over her shin from smacking into it. Hardly the time or place for any sort of discussion, but the long walk and the silence had given Shaw too much time to think.

She considered her options. The problem was that even though the basement technically had enough room for three people to live there, it was still close quarters and nothing stayed secret for long. Better to have everything out in the open instead of risking misunderstandings about exactly what was or wasn't going on. Theoretically, anyway.

She knew Reese had seen Root come out of her room this morning, though he hadn't commented.

“Uh, well about Root and, uh, me? I guess?” This was not going as planned, though to be fair she hadn't had much of a plan. And even if they did all live in the same basement it wasn't like it was Reese’s business anyway. And she didn't know exactly what ‘it’ was so how could he expect her to know? It was extremely unreasonable.

“You know what? Just stay out of it and if there's ever anything you need to know, which there _won't_ be, you'll get to know then, okay?” It came out slightly hostile and she failed to remember that she'd been the one to bring it up until after she was done talking.

“Does this mean we can change the subject now?” Reese asked cautiously.

“Yes. Please.”

“Oh thank god.”

Shaw might have bumped the generator sideways a _tiny_ bit so it smacked his knee, but hey it was really dark down here so no one could prove anything.

Reese held up his hand to signal a halt. “Up ahead,” he whispered. He pointed towards a patch of darkness further down the tracks that seemed to be thicker than the surrounding darkness. And to be moving.

They cautiously inched a little closer, taking care not to bump the generator into anything.

“Okay, maybe this _was_ a terrible idea,” Shaw whispered to Reese.

He grunted but didn't respond beyond that, which was understandable considering the large mass of undead milling about further down the tracks.

This area of the subway was a maze of multiple subway lines intersecting and local and express tracks diverging off. Undead from all over could wander down here and end up just about anywhere else in the subway system that wasn't blocked off by cave-ins.

“Maybe we should go back and try to sneak past them rather than deliberately antagonize them,” John suggested. “Or try to find a way without going through the subway.”

The first thing Shaw had established (with the Machine’s help through Root) was that there was no way for them to get to the building they needed without showing up on multiple Samaritan cameras. If everything went well, Samaritan would never realize it'd had a break-in and never think to look for suspicious activity, but the odds of that happening were low enough that they'd decided not to risk the direct approach.

Going through the subway could get them close enough that they only had one or two cameras to worry about, but left them with the unfortunate problem of navigating a subway overrun by the undead.

It had been Shaw's idea to use the generator as a distraction to draw the undead away and let them get through. Even if the tracks they needed to follow had undead wander back onto them before their mission was done they'd only have to fight them in one direction and hopefully less of them.

But now, crouched down in the darkness watching the writhing mass of walking corpses, Shaw was starting to wish they'd risked the cameras. Too late now.

“Over there.” She jerked her head towards a door on the wall on the far side of the tracks. According to the subway plans that the Machine had dug up for them, it should be a service supply room.

She had to admit that having the Machine actively helping them out on missions was incredibly useful. It was too bad there was nothing down in the subway that she could use to help them directly.

The door to the supply room swung open easily, though the hinges squealed a little. Shaw and Reese froze and watched the distant undead for any sign of a reaction. When there was no change after thirty seconds, they both relaxed and carefully moved the generator into the room.

“Lock is a dead bolt that can only get thrown from the inside,” Reese said with a grimace.

“Guess it's a good thing they haven't figured out door handles then.” Shaw took a deep breath. This was going to be the fun part. “You ready?”

“Guess I have to be.”

Shaw hit the switch to start the generator up and then backed out of the room as quickly as possible. Reese shut the door as soon as she was clear and they both moved out across the tracks as quickly and quietly as possible.

They paused a short distance away to peer out from between the support beams and pillars at the supply room door. The generator was pretty loud, and even with the door shut it echoed through the empty corridors, but other than a few undead near the outside of the swarm, most of them didn't seem immediately interested.

“Why aren't they headed towards it?” Reese whispered.

“Think we need something to really catch their attention.” Shaw took her pack off and fumbled through it. She dug something out and handed it to Reese as she put her pack back on.

“This is a grenade.”

“A really tiny one. And it'll definitely get their attention.”

Reese shrugged. “Works for me. You want to do the honors or should I?”

“It's my grenade.” Shaw held out her hand for it. She'd been saving it for a special occasion.

She was careful to throw it well past the door so that it wouldn't blow it open since that would defeat the purpose of drawing them to the area to let them spend their time trying to break the door down themselves.

“Go.” Shaw set off away from the door as fast as she could without making additional noise.

A half a second later there was a huge, deafening boom which echoed through the tunnels in ever direction. Everything shook for a second and then was still.

Shaw was still hurrying forwards when she heard the first call. It was a high-pitched, inhuman shriek that echoed through the tunnels and scraped at her ears like nails on a chalkboard. She didn't do fear, but that sound invoked some primal instinct to flee and hide that she hadn't been aware she had. She staggered to a halt and exchanged an uneasy glance with Reese.

Answering shrieks started from every direction in the tunnels accompanied by a soft rumbling noise that quickly grew in volume.

“Shit.” Shaw had a good idea what was happening. “Behind a pillar. Now.”

It was hard to tell which direction all the undead were coming from, but she chose the side of the pillar closest to the explosion to hide against and saw Reese do the same at the next pillar down. She took her hammer out, but held it up against her chest, tucked in to avoid notice.

The smell hit her even before the undead reached them, a gut-twisting rotten stench of death and decay that she'd come to associate with the presence of the undead, but had never experienced in this overwhelming amount before.

The rumbling noise sorted itself out into the sound of feet pounding along the subway floor as the undead poured in from every direction. Shaw held her breath as the first few streamed past the pillars they were hiding behind without stopping. At first it was only one or two at a time, but then there were undead everywhere on all sides, shoving and staggering as they tried to get through and find what had caused the noise.

A couple times one of the undead brushed up against Shaw and she had to fight down the urge to shove it away. She didn't dare turn her head to check on Reese again, worried that any tiny movement might give them away.

After what felt like an eternity, the crowd of undead thinned out and only a few stragglers were left limping past.

“You okay?” Reese asked as soon as they were in the clear.

“None of them bit me, if that's what you mean, but let’s never do that again.”

“Agreed.”

“Let's get the fuck out of here.”

Neither of them said much as they made their way towards where they were going to meet the other two. They had to hide a couple times when a group of undead that were lagging behind lurched across the tracks near them, but the subway was mostly as clear as Shaw had ever seen it. Not that it would stay that way for long.

“What the hell did you two do? Set off a bomb?” Carter hissed in an angry whisper when they found her and Root hiding out in a little alcove near their meet-up point.

“It was just a grenade.” Shaw looked past Carter to Root. She wasn't sure what expression she'd expected to see on Root's face, but it definitely wasn't the gleeful smirk Root had on.

“And you didn't stop her?” Carter asked Reese.

“Well, it was her grenade so she had dibs.”

Carter shook her head. “I should have known better than to have expected you to be the sane one.”

“You really should have,” Shaw agreed. She chuckled at the scowl on Reese’s face. “We need to move now. Got the attention of a lot more of them than we'd planned for and I don't want to be down here when they lose interest.”

Carter looked like she had to biting reply to that, but just gave a deep sigh and set off down the tracks. “Better hope that explosion didn't tip someone off up top,” she called back.

Reese hurried after her leaving Shaw alone with Root.

“You've got some subway on your face,” Root said and wiped her thumb across Shaw's cheek before she could stop her.

Shaw turned away and headed after Carter, annoyed at herself for feeling a little pleased at Root's fussing. Root fell into step beside her.

“You two worry when the explosion went off?”

Root shrugged. “Carter a little maybe. I think mostly she was exasperated.” Root tilted her head to one side and grinned at her. “Guess you two have a reputation for causing mayhem--museum thefts and all.”

Shaw snorted. “At least we're really fucking good at it.” She looked out over the dark tracks, but there was no sign of movement. “Half expected you to come looking for us.”

“You kids can handle yourselves.” Root sounded almost proud.

It was a surprising answer after all the trouble Root had gone to to hide the mission from them, but maybe it hadn't been this part of the trip she'd been worried about.

* * *

 

“This is us.” Shaw motioned at the subway station platform and despite the dire circumstances Root couldn't help but enjoy the sight of Shaw’s arms tensing as she pulled herself up onto the platform.

An entire morning in Shaw's bed and she still couldn't stop her brain from going straight into the gutter. Like recalling the subtle rippling of Shaw's arm when she'd….

“You coming or what?” Shaw asked, pulling her out of her very nice daydream.

“Wouldn't miss it.” She winked at Shaw and Shaw rolled her eyes, but still offered her a hand up.

Reese had found the sealed up stairs to the surface ahead. Samaritan had done a good job making them zombie-proof, but they'd gotten lucky and this exit didn't prove to be too hard for humans to pry open.

“Once we're through the door, everyone needs to follow exactly where I walk,” Root reminded them. The Machine would give her directions as best She could to keep them away from the cameras. Once they were inside, things would be a little different.

Carter took a turn at breaking through the door this time with Shaw assisting her, and the cold air from outside streamed down and made Root shiver. They'd opted for lighter clothes since they'd been down in the subway and needed to go for fast and maneuverable over comfort, but Root was regretting that a little now.

“After you.” Reese motioned her to go ahead.

It was even colder outside and Root wondered if she could use her sad-eyes trick to get John to give her his suit jacket. Who wore a suit when crawling through zombie-infested subways anyway?

“This way.” She kept close to the buildings as she headed down the block.

It was dark outside and the streets were empty. There was technically a curfew at eight o’clock, but some things even Samaritan couldn't enforce on New Yorkers. Still, most people didn't like wandering in the dark much anymore no matter how zombie-free Manhattan supposedly was.

Fortunately they didn't have far to go. Root brought the group to a halt near the corner of a building so she could peer around the side.

“The door is right up ahead. No one should be around inside on the lower levels and I've got the code for the door.” She looked back at the others. Shaw had materialized a beanie from somewhere and pulled it down over her ears, which was cheating and incredibly rude in Root's opinion since she hadn't thought to bring one. “If everything goes well, we'll be in and out before they even notice.”

She didn't comment on the odds of that happening.

The door was a back entry along a brick wall with no other doors or windows and it clicked open easily when Root entered the code the Machine gave her.

They'd chosen this entrance because it opened directly into a stairwell, so they could head down to the basement without going through the main building.

It was warmer inside, but got cold again as they descended into the basement. The Machine had managed to temporarily disable the cameras down there, but She hadn't been able to look through them for more than a second without running the risk of Samaritan catching Her. At least Samaritan would be as blind as they were down here.

Until it sent someone to investigate the camera outage anyway.

“What is this place?” Reese asked in a whisper as they walked through the deserted rooms.

There might have been no one in the basement now, but it was clearly still used quite often. There was a single corridor running down the middle with large rooms on either side with huge glass windows into the hall so anyone walking by could see inside. Most of the rooms were full of various sorts of lab equipment. One room had an operating table. Another had a wall of metal hatches on the wall.

“That's a morgue,” Carter said. “What're they keeping dead bodies down here for?”

“Have a feeling they're not dead when they come down here.” Shaw had a clipboard she'd grabbed from another room and was leafing through the pages. “Guess they really are trying to find a cure.”

There was a loud _clang_ from down at the end of the hall near where they'd come in and the overhead lights switched off. Dim greenish emergency lights near the ceiling flickered on, casting the basement in eerie shadows.

They all had their guns out almost instantly, silent and listening for any sound of incoming trouble.

“Root? What the hell is going on?” Shaw asked quietly.

“She can't see down here so She doesn't know for sure, but She thinks Samaritan has some kind of safety system set up down here that we couldn't detect. Maybe motion sensors.”

John cautiously moved over to peer out the window into the hall. “Where's this briefcase?”

“Room at the far end of the hall. It's a storage space.” The building had belonged to Thornhill Utilities before the outbreak and had been taken over by Samaritan without them ever realizing exactly what they'd gotten their hands on. They'd dumped a lot of the old equipment into storage instead of throwing it out and running the risk that they'd lose something valuable in a time of short resources. Inconvenient, but it may have been the only reason this briefcase had remained intact.

“You and Shaw go get it. Carter and I will secure the exit route.” John looked over at the others for confirmation.

“I'm not sure splitting up is the best idea right now,” Root said. She wished the Machine had a better idea of what was going on. Shouldn't agents have come to find them already?

She looked at Shaw, hoping she'd agree, but Shaw shook her head.

“Normally I'd agree with you, but right now we need to work fast, and that means we split up.”

Root bit back further protests and only watched as Carter and John headed down the hall the way they'd come in.

“We need to hurry,” Shaw reminded her.

“Right. This way.”

The two rooms at the end of the hall lacked the windows that the others had. The one on the right was a solid metal door that looked like it would stand up to a shotgun blast without budging. The door on the other side was a normal wood door and fortunately the one they were after.

Shaw popped the lock on the door and shoved it open with her shoulder, gun out and sweeping the interior. The room was large and full of rows of metal shelves crammed with various boxes and oddities.

“Don't suppose the Machine knows exactly where this briefcase is?” Shaw asked.

“No. But they put it in here a while ago so maybe near the back.”

There weren’t any of the green emergency lights in this room and they had to pull out their flashlights to search the dusty shelves.

“I keep thinking I'm hearing something,” Shaw said as they looked over the contents of the third shelf they'd tried. “Like some weird little scratching noise?”

Root held still for a minute, listening. There might have been a faint noise, almost like someone scraping their fingernail along something. “Maybe. I honestly can't tell if I really hear it or if it's my mind playing tricks on me. Could be rats or mice.”

“Guess so.” Shaw didn't sound convinced. “Did you get a look in any of those labs we passed?”

Root shoved a box aside on a high shelf and sneezed when dust fell in her face. This place had clearly never been cleaned. “Briefly. Why?”

“You said Samaritan was working on a treatment. This is one of the places they're doing that at, and based on what I saw, they're pretty close. Got something they think works, but need to do more testing.”

“That's...good, I suppose.” Finding something that could save recent bite victims from the virus would be a huge victory, but she couldn't help but worry about anything Samaritan made. And even if it worked there was no reason to think Samaritan would share it with the general public.

“I grabbed a sample of one from the fridge they had, but I think it won't last in higher temperatures for long, so it'll probably be worthless before we get it to someone who can analyze it. But worth a try.”

“Maybe we can come back in a month or two after things have settled down with a plan for stealing it properly.” Root pushed another box to the side. Was there something on the shelf behind it?

“There's something else. The morgue we found, bodies in there didn't come in here as bodies. Think the people who Samaritan collects when they sweep the jails are used in their experiments here. And I don't think many of them make it.”

Something about that nagged at Root, like there was some little detail that was off. But now wasn't the time to pursue it.

“There's something on the back of the shelf that I can't reach. Can you give me a boost?”

Shaw just looked at her. “Seriously?”

“Well, I could lift you up instead.”

“I do _not_ get boosted,” Shaw growled. She groaned and rolled her eyes. “Fine. Just...behave.”

Root had developed an up-close appreciation for just how strong Shaw was, but she was still impressed when Shaw wrapped her arms around her waist and lifted her up with ease.

“I love it when you get all forceful, Sameen.”

“I _will_ drop you.”

Root chuckled and leaned as far forwards as she could to grab the thing she'd seen at the back of the shelf.

“Got it.”

Despite her smart-ass remark, Shaw still lowered her back down politely before stepping back to brush herself off. “Is that it?”

Root's prize was a briefcase that looked almost identical to the one they'd found in the woods, if a bit dustier.

“Looks like it.”

“Great, now let's get out of…”

A shrill alarm sounded from out in the hall followed by a heavy clicking noise.

“Move. Now.” Shaw grabbed her arm to propel her towards the door.

Nothing had changed in the hall at first glance other than the flashing alarm lights up near the ceiling. Down near the end of the hall Root could see John urgently gesturing at them to hurry up. She was about to step forwards when Shaw's arm shot out and stopped her.

Shaw held a finger up to her lips before Root could question her and gestured sideways with her head. The heavy door across from the store room was open just a crack now though no light shone through from the other side. Even over the alarm, Root was sure she could hear wheezing, rasping breaths from within.

That's the piece that had been missing from Shaw's theory about them testing the virus here--tests gone wrong weren't likely to kill people, at least, not in a permanent way. Behind that door must be whatever was left of the failed test subjects.

Shaw motioned for her to go first, and Root stepped past the door as slowly and quietly as she could manage, sure that at any second the door would swing open and she'd be rushed. Once she was a few paces down the hall she paused to wait for Shaw to catch up to her. She didn't budge until Shaw made it to where she was.

Neither of them said anything as they crept down the hall to join Reese and Carter.

“What the hell happened?” Shaw whispered urgently when they reached the others. “You two trip the alarm?”

“Some type of security door shut when the lights turned off. Alarm triggered when we tried to force it open.” Reese looked at the briefcase in Root's hands. “That it?”

She nodded and shoved it at him. “Let me see the door.”

The door was solid metal with no handles or windows. The only useful thing she saw was an electrical panel on the wall next to it. She yanked the cover off to reveal a bunch of wires underneath.

“Any help would be appreciated,” she said softly, but the Machine was already jumping in to tell her how to short out the door.

“What the hell was that?” she heard Carter ask from behind her.

“Nothing good,” Shaw said. “How's that door coming, Root?”

“Need another minute.”

It was hard to focus on both Her and the team behind her, so she did her best to tune out the humans. She pulled a folding knife from her belt and snipped two wires at Her instructions. Now she just needed to…

She almost dropped her knife at the sound of a gunshot behind her. It was followed by the sound of the rest of the team opening fire. It took every ounce of self-control she had to keep working and not turn around to look.

She had to trust that the others had her back.

There was a tiny spark and fizzle and the heavy security door swung open. Root let out a sigh of relief.

“It's open,” she called as she turned around.

The hallway was packed with zombies, thrashing and shoving in their efforts to reach the team. Most of them looked fresh, barely rotten at all, and all of them looked far more alert than the normal zombies she was used to.

Carter backed up first, slipping out the door into the supposed safety on the other side. Reese glanced back and motioned for Root to leave next, but she shook her head. No way was she leaving before Shaw. Reese looked annoyed and said something to Shaw that Root couldn't quite make out, and then he backed up, grabbed her by the arm and shoved her out the door.

She stumbled out into the dark stairwell, with Reese following behind a few seconds later. She turned, thinking she should at least try to go back, but Reese grabbed her arm again.

“Wait.”

Shaw slid through the door half a second later and shoved it shut behind her. The sounds of something heavy slamming into the other side echoed through the stairwell. Root allowed herself the barest fraction of a second of relief before she shook John off to go to the security panel on this side of the door and type the code in. There was the reassuring sound of heavy bolts being thrown from deep within the door.

Shaw stepped away cautiously. “That'll hold them?”

“For long enough,” Root said.

Carter was already scoping out the stairs to the next floor. “We're clear,” she called back in a loud whisper.

The outside air was freezing cold, but Root had never been so grateful for it before. Once the door behind them swung shut she let out a long sigh of relief.

“I guess that could have gone worse,” John said as they headed towards the subway.

“Right.” There was something in Shaw's voice that sounded odd and Root turned towards her.

“Sameen?”

Shaw pushed past her without answering. “Keep moving. We're not safe yet.”

* * *

 

“Never thought I'd be glad to be down in the subway,” Reese said as he helped Carter secure the entrance behind them.

Shaw watched them working to block off the only way out, unsure exactly what to do next. She knew what she _should_ do, but….

“Wait.” Shaw sighed. This was not going to be fun. “We've got a problem.”

“Shaw?” Reese stepped away from the entrance with a frown.

Shaw risked a glance at Root and could see the rising terror in her eyes. She must have guessed, or at least suspected.

No putting it off then. Shaw rolled up the bottom of one sleeve her short sleeve shirt, showing off the nasty bite she'd gotten high up on her arm as a parting gift from the undead in the basement. It was an ugly shade of red, and already oozing some kind of yellowish pus. Little red streaks were branching out from the bite as the infection spread. It was progressing much faster than she'd ever seen a bite infection go before. Maybe something about the virus strain those undead down there were carrying.

There was a movement to her right and when she looked up Root was pointing a gun at Reese. Again.

“Uh, Root? What the hell?” she asked.

Reese looked just as confused as she did, though Carter had a look in her eye that said maybe she got what was going on.

“You're not shooting her, John.” Root's voice carried a threat in it that made Shaw positive that she'd think nothing of pulling the trigger right then and there.

“Root, put the gun down.” How many times had they been through this now? It would have been comical if it weren't for the circumstances.

“You told me about your deal with him, Shaw, what you'd do if either one of you got bitten? I'm not going to let him shoot you.”

“Rather be dead than be one of those things.”

“No. There's got to be another way.” Root shook her head, anger twisting her face. “I don't care! Find one.”

It took Shaw a second to realize the last had been directed at the Machine.

“There might be another way.” Shaw waited until those words sunk in and Root turned to look at her. There was a desperate hope in her eyes that made Shaw want to look away. She reached out her hand. “Give me the gun and we'll talk about this, okay? Reese isn't going to shoot me right this second.”

Root looked back and forth between them indecisively a few times and then lowered the gun. She didn't give it to Shaw, though.

“What other way, Shaw?” Carter asked, and Shaw was glad she was staying sane here.

Shaw pulled a small glass bottle out of her pocket. “I pinched one of their prototype cures from the lab. No way of knowing if it works, but I don't have much to lose finding out, now do I?” Her arm was throbbing and it felt like her head was pounding in time with it. How long did she actually have? Back when the outbreak had started it had taken up to 48 hours for people to die, but later cases had progressed much more swiftly. Did she have hours? Less?

Root was staring at the bottle in Shaw's hand, her eyes wide. Shaw wondered what the Machine was telling her now, what odds she was giving her.

“We need to get back to the basement fast then,” Carter said coming over to stand next to Shaw. “Unless you have a way of administering that here?”

Shaw shook her head. “Need a clean syringe.”

“Then we need to move.”

Root’s eyes were burning with something between fury and panic. “I'm with Shaw.”

“I don't need a babysitter.” Though she was feeling kind of dizzy now, like she'd had a little too much to drink, and her skin was on fire.

“You stay with her,” Carter said to Root, completely ignoring Shaw’s protests. “Make sure she doesn't try and do anything heroically stupid.”

Shaw tried to shrug Root off when she took a firm grip on her uninjured arm, but her coordination seemed a bit off and Root didn't budge.

“Sorry, sweetie. You're stuck with me.”

The trip down into the subway tunnels was a bit fuzzy for Shaw. She swung back and forth between being overly-alert to the point where she thought she could pick out even the tiniest flicker of the shadows around them, to everything being blurred together and formless.

“Looks like they're still busy with the generator.” Reese's voice seemed to echo from a great distance away. “Good call on that, Shaw.”

She tried to respond, but her mouth didn't seem to be cooperating with her brain.

“We're nearly back,” Root said what felt like both seconds and hours later. “Just hang on a little longer.”

Somewhere along the way she'd wrapped an arm around Shaw's waist and was now supporting a lot of her weight.

“You know this might not work, right?” Shaw was surprised the words actually came out this time.

Root’s arm tightened around her. “It's going to.”

“If it doesn't...you should stay here with Reese. Don't go back out there.”

“Shaw...just, stop it, okay?”

Shaw was startled enough by that that she managed to look up at Root's face. She looked away again almost immediately, uncomfortable from the intensity of it.

She must have lost time again after that, because suddenly they were stumbling outside into the freezing cold night. Shaw looked back over her shoulder. Had someone carried her up the ladder? Shouldn't she remember that?

She tugged the sleeve of her shirt up a little to check on the bite mark and then wished she hadn't. It looked much, much worse and smelled awful.

“We need to keep moving.” Root tugged at her. “Almost back.”

She knew they were back in the basement when she heard the sound of Bear's nails clattering across the floor.

“Medical chest is under her bed,” Reese said and someone walked away to get it.

Shaw tried to get a grip on her surroundings, but it was really hard to focus on any one thing. She was intensely aware of Root next to her, with her arm still around her holding her up.

“This way, Sameen.”

Root brought her into a room (her room maybe?) and helped her sit down on the bed.

“Just another second, sweetie.”

Shaw really wished she had some way of getting Reese alone right then so she could give him some clear instructions on how to handle Root if this all went sideways, but she couldn't even tell for sure if he was in the room or not.

“Ready for this?” That answered the question of where Reese was. He had a syringe in hand now and was sitting next to her on the bed.

“Inject it straight into the bite,” Shaw managed to say.

Reese winced, but nodded.

Shaw grit her teeth and only partly stifled the pained noise that escaped her. She'd been in a lot of pain before in her life, but this was pretty damn excruciating. Whatever it was that Reese injected her with burned like fire in her veins.

“Fucking hell,” she managed to gasp out.

Her entire arm twitched on its own, and for half a second she found herself thinking about how it had done the same thing that morning, when she'd been lying in this same bed with Root. She turned sideways to look at Root and found her staring right back at her, eyes huge and terrified but also determined.

Her arm kept twitching and then it spread out through the rest of her body, everything shaking and flailing without her permission.

“Lay her down!” The voice came from very far away.

Everything tilted sideways and then she slid into darkness.

* * *

 

“We need more.”

Shaw couldn't open her eyes and couldn't quite place the speaker's voice.

“You can't go back in there. It'd be suicide, Root.”

Shaw wasn't sure who the second speaker was either, but some part of her semi-conscious brain thought that they had a point.

“It's a different lab. They won't be expecting it.”

“They're in high alert everywhere right now. You're going to get yourself killed.”

“This isn't negotiable, John. Now are you going to give me what I need, or am I going in unarmed?”

Knock her out and lock her in her room, Shaw wanted to say, but she wasn't able to talk right then either.

“Fine. But I'm coming with you.”

Shaw wished she could roll her eyes because how the hell had she ended up with _two_ complete idiots?

Fortunately she drifted back off to sleep almost immediately.

* * *

 

“Fucking hell!” Shaw woke up in pain and tried to fight off whoever it was who was hurting her.

“You're fine, Shaw. It's me.”

She managed to open her eyes this time to see Reese sitting on the edge of her bed.

“What the hell was that?” Her entire arm was burning again, though it felt more contained this time.

“Second dose of the cure you found. More refined version, actually. You reacted really well to the first dose, but you were still having a lot of symptoms. The Machine seems to think this one will get the job done, though.”

Shaw was a little surprised how reassuring she found the word of an AI.

“You two are idiots for going after it.”

Reese’s eyebrows shot up. “How'd you…?”

“You talk loud.” Shaw tried to sit up, but immediately gave up on the idea. “Where's Root?”

“I'm right here.” She stepped forwards into Shaw's line of vision and Shaw looked her over critically.

“You're bleeding on my floor.”

Root's entire left sleeve was soaked in blood, though she hardly seemed to notice.

“Minor bullet wound. Or two. Carter is coming over to patch us up.”

“You got shot, too?” Shaw asked Reese.

He tried to smile reassuringly.

Shaw kind of wanted to deck his dumb ass. And Root as well.

“You should get some sleep, Sameen. It's still going to take a little while for this to work.” Root stepped up next to the bed and leaned over her. Reese slipped away leaving them alone. Root just stared at her like she couldn't believe she was really there.

“You done running off on dumb missions?” Shaw asked to break the tension.

“Only if you're done almost dying.”

“Root…”

“Sleep, Shaw.” It was an order this time.

“Fine, but you better be here when I wake up.”

Root’s eyes widened even as Shaw realized how her words must have sounded. She'd only meant that Root shouldn't run off again, not that she wanted her to hover by her bedside or anything lame. Root looked so damned happy though that Shaw didn't say anything else.

“I'll be right here.”

Shaw shut her eyes and fell back asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally parts of the last chapter and the first half of this chapter were going to be one chapter, ending on a cliffhanger when Shaw got bitten, but it felt like kind of an asshole move to leave that cliffhanger in so I ended up making the last chapter longer (which is why it was a little slow) and combining all this and not going into detail of Root and Reese's little raid at the end (it'll be touched on next chapter) so that I could end with Shaw being obviously okay.


	9. Thanks

Root woke up with a stiff neck and back and the feeling that she was being watched. She was in Shaw's room, curled up awkwardly in a chair near her bed. She must have fallen asleep here again, and someone had come in and covered her with a blanket this time. Hardly the first time that had happened in the last few days, but what was new now was that Shaw's eyes were wide open and she was watching Root from her bed.

Root rubbed her eyes and sat up a little, trying to stretch out some of the stiffness.

“Hey, sweetie. Welcome back to the land of the living.”

“Hopefully not the land of the living dead,” Shaw's voice was rough and cracked.

Root’s face broke into an unintentionally huge smile, because Shaw was awake and okay and making bad jokes already and this might not have been the _best_ moment of her life, but it ranked up there.

“Can I get some water?” Shaw asked.

Someone had left a bottle of water on the table near the door while Root had been asleep (probably John. She thought he might be responsible for the blanket as well) and she quickly fetched it and helped Shaw sit up (though Shaw barely needed her help).

She sat back down in the chair while Shaw drank, not wanting to crowd her.

“How're you feeling?” she asked after Shaw had drained the entire bottle.

“I feel...pretty good, actually.” Shaw scowled. “Why do I feel good? I should feel like shit.” She turned to look at Root. “This some side effect of whatever the hell happened to me?”

Root fought down the uneasy fluttering in her stomach. “No one's ever survived before. We have no clue what to expect.”

Shaw pulled up the sleeve of her shirt to look at the bite wound. It was scabbed over now, still nasty looking, but no longer red and infected.

“What was the original virus supposed to do again? Make people compliant?”

“Well,” Root said, trying for a joking tone, “are you feeling docile and obedient?”

Shaw flipped her off.

Root smirked. “So probably not an issue then.”

“I guess.” Shaw didn't sound convinced.

“You're probably just well rested after sleeping for so long.” Root moved back over to sit on the edge of Shaw's bed. “I can give you a thorough physical if you'd like though.”

“Rain check until after I've had a shower maybe.” Shaw frowned as if she'd just remembered something. “You got shot.”

“Not badly.” Root had been hoping she hadn't remembered that bit. She'd been scolded for the raid on the second lab once already. Actually _scolded_ as if she weren't an adult fully capable of making rational decisions on her own.

“Your face…”

Root had forgotten about the bruises down the right side of her face. They didn't hurt much, but they were still colorful.

“Tripped over a dead body which John rudely left in the middle of the hall.”

“You hurt anywhere else?”

How had Shaw gone from comatose to prying into her injuries so quickly?

“I'm fine, Sameen.”

“Show me.” It wasn't a request.

“Maybe later.” Root stood up. “You feel up to getting out of bed?”

Shaw looked like she was going to press the issue for a second but then she shrugged. “Yeah, maybe I'll take that shower.”

Root hovered at the edge of the room as Shaw got up and gathered her things.

“Other than you and Reese running off like idiots, did I miss anything?” Shaw asked as she grabbed a change of clothes. She was moving around fine on her own and Root felt a little of the tension from the last week ease up watching her.

“We got the data in the second briefcase back to Her.”

Shaw paused to stare at her. “How? No way you went all the way back to that satellite array we used last time.”

“She found us somewhere in the city. She didn't think She could keep us safe there last time, but She seems to be having a lot more success at keeping us out of Samaritan’s sight now.”

“You and Reese went?”

“No. Carter didn't think we should be allowed out without supervision for some reason. She went with me and Reese stayed here to watch you.” That had been close to the most awkward five hours of Root's life.

Shaw headed for the door, Root trailing along behind her.

“Did whatever was stored in that briefcase give her something useful to work with?” Shaw paused to look around the empty main room.

“Reese said he was going out with Bear for a while today,” Root said to explain their absence. “We've all gotten a bit of cabin fever in the last week.”

Shaw kept looking at Bear's bed as if she could summon him by will alone.

“And I don't know exactly what was on the drives in this briefcase, but it seemed like She had a lot to work with.” The Machine had wanted to hold off on discussing the next step until Shaw was better and they were all focused again and Root had been grateful for that.

“Glad this whole damn thing was for something then.” Shaw reached the bathroom door and pushed it open. She paused and looked back at Root. “Keep talking while I shower. You haven't told me about your trip to get the second dose of the cure yet.”

Root hesitated, torn between wanting to stay near Shaw and not wanting to talk about that mission. In the end she followed Shaw into the tiny bathroom and perched on the edge of the sink while Shaw stripped and got in the shower.

“How'd you find the second lab?” Shaw called over the sound of the water.

“The Machine told me where it was.” There'd been a bit of back and forth about that. The Machine had very much wanted to help Shaw but had been concerned about Root shooting her way into a Samaritan lab without a plan or backup. Root had informed Her that if She didn't tell her which building, she'd just choose Samaritan buildings at random until she found what she was looking for. The Machine had folded quickly.

“So you and Reese just kicked in the front door and stole the cure?”

“We were a little more discreet than that.” They'd kicked in the side door. “We had the element of surprise on our sides, and an AI to help, so it could have gone much worse.” It wasn't a lie exactly, after all neither of them had died, but it definitely could have gone a lot better.

“You got shot, though. Reese, too.”

“Hardly the first time either of us has been shot.”

Shaw continued her shower in silence for a few minutes and Root watched her silhouette through the white shower curtain. She’d known Shaw wouldn't be pleased with how they'd handled getting the second dose for her, but she hadn't been about to sit there and watch Shaw die, not when they knew there was a cure that worked.

And that--that urge to protect another person at all costs--was a new and troubling development. She hadn't fully realized how deep in she'd been until she'd been faced with the thought of Shaw dying, but she no more could have abandoned the Machine than not done everything in her power to save Shaw, no matter the risks.

Shaw popped her head around the edge of the curtain. “Well, you're both idiots, but I guess I owe you one for saving my ass.”

“You don't owe me anything. That's not how this works, right?” She thought that maybe she understood that now.

Shaw chuckled as she climbed out of the shower. “You’re going to talk yourself out of a very nice thank you.”

“Perish the thought.” Most of her thoughts right now were about the water droplets running down Shaw's back. “Though I hate to say it, but this probably isn't the best place.”

Shaw raised an eyebrow in question.

“Reese is about to come back and torturing him is all well and good, but cutting off his access to the only bathroom as well seems unnecessarily cruel.” He'd probably be too traumatized to ever use this bathroom again.

Shaw started toweling herself off. “Since when do you care about protecting Reese’s delicate sensibilities?”

Root shrugged but didn't answer, partly because she still hadn't adjusted to her new slightly more friendly dynamic with John, but mostly because Shaw had bent over to dry her legs and Root was a bit distracted by the view.

Shaw reached for her change of clothes. “Let's move things to your room then.”

But Reese had gotten back when they both emerged into the main room again. Fortunately he didn't comment on the fact they'd both been crammed in the small bathroom together.

Bear ran across the floor and almost pounced on Shaw, his whole body wagging with excitement. Root watched fondly as Shaw dropped to her knees to pet him.

“He slept on your bed almost the whole time you were unconscious,” Reese said, limping over to join them. His leg was better than it had been, but it'd still be a while before he could get anywhere fast.

“It raining outside?” Shaw asked. Her shirt was covered with wet paw prints.

“Not exactly. You should go take a look.”

It was late morning, but there was no way to tell that from the grey, cloud-covered sky. The entire world felt hushed and wrapped in the soft snowfall that was covering everything in a white blanket.

“The world almost looks pretty like this,” Root said.

“Too bad the undead don't hibernate for the winter.” Shaw shivered in the cold and Root resisted the urge to huddle closer to her to share warmth.

“Is it safe for us to stay here?” Shaw asked. “I mean, does Samaritan know or suspect we were mixed up in the attacks on the labs?”

“We never showed up on camera, and we had our faces covered. Anyone who could have recognized us is dead.”

“Guess that's one piece of good news.” Shaw looked down the snow-covered street. “Always thought New York was pretty in the snow, at least for about an hour until pedestrians and cars turned all the snow black and brown. But since the apocalypse that doesn't happen so much.”

Root had seen a lot of untouched fresh snow in the last five winters. “I've always said that killing off large portions of the population would help bring back the untouched natural beauty in the world.” There was something almost magical about seeing the city wrapped in snow like this, all the more so with Shaw by her side.

Shaw chuckled. “I bet.” She seemed to suddenly notice how much both of them were shivering. “Let's get back inside before we freeze to death.”

Root cast one more look down the snowy street and then turned to follow Shaw back in to the warmth.

* * *

 

It wasn't that Shaw had _wanted_ Root to fuss over her when she woke up. No, she was just surprised at the absence of what she had thought would be an unfortunate amount of inevitable fussing. But it was like Root was being careful around her and it was...annoying.

Root vanished into her room as soon as they got back in from the snow and Shaw almost went after her, but stopped herself halfway across the main room. Maybe Root wanted to be alone for a few minutes? She wasn't quite sure why that might be, but something was a little off for sure. Was she supposed to ask her about it or wait for her to talk about it?

Why were people so confusing?

“How're you feeling?” Reese asked. She'd half-forgotten he was in the room.

“Not dead. So that's a plus.” She tore her gaze away from Root's door to look at him. “I actually feel surprisingly good.”

“Not craving brains then?”

“Not like you'd be in trouble if I were.”

Reese smiled in that weird little way he did where his lips barely twitched but his eyes lit up.

Shaw looked away again because she knew that look and she'd known that of course he'd been worried but she hadn't realized just how much until now. Fortunately, Bear chose that moment to trot over to her and she squatted down to scratch his neck. It was easier to deal with stuff when there was a dog to pet.

“Thanks for getting that second dose for me,” she said, focused intently on playing with Bear's ears.

“It was Root's plan. I just went along to help.”

“If it was dangerous enough that you both got hurt, then it's a damn good thing you went with her.” Why did nobody else believe in backup?

“She tell you about it?” Reese sounded cautious.

“Not yet.”

“Ah.”

When Shaw glanced up, Reese was still standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. She wanted to press him for details, but she could tell he wasn't going to share. Not until she talked to Root first about...whatever it was.

She straightened up. “I forgot to ask Root something.”

It was an incredibly obvious excuse, but it wasn't completely a lie. Reese just nodded and limped off to his room.

Shaw knocked on Root's door and barely waited for her to answer before she entered.

“Who patched you up?”

Root looked up from where she was sitting on her bed with her laptop (a new acquisition, since Shaw had never seen it before).

“John mostly. Carter helped.”

Shaw had seen Reese’s idea of neat stitches before. “Let me see.”

Root looked like she was going to try and get out of it again, but then she sighed, shut the laptop, and slid to sit on the edge of the bed.

Root turned out to not be wearing anything under her hoodie, but Shaw was too focused on the damage to appreciate that.

There were two bandages, one on Root's left arm and one on her left side by her ribs, which Shaw figured must have been the gunshot wounds, but there was also a mass of bruises on Root's ribs on her right side and what looked like a shallow knife slash up by her right collar bone. Root was staring at the floor, looking almost nervous, and she hadn't made a single joke about Shaw getting her to strip.

Shaw peeled back the bandage on Root's arm to check the wound and give herself a second to think. She'd been under the impression that Reese and Root had broken into a building full of nerdy Samaritan lab types with maybe a few armed agents for protection, but Root had clearly been in a fight that went beyond just exchanging gunfire. A fight where she'd been cut and someone had hit her hard enough to bruise her ribs. Shaw suspected the bruises on her face weren't actually from tripping over a body either.

“This one isn't too bad,” Shaw said, patting the first bandage back into place. It had been a bad graze, but she'd seen much worse, and the stitches were adequate.

The second bandage revealed another graze, though this one was a bit deeper, and Root had been really damned lucky that the bullet hadn't been an inch or two over. Shaw carefully replaced the bandage and stepped back.

“How many?” she asked.

“How many what?”

“Samaritan agents. How many armed Samaritan agents were in whatever the hell facility you decided to break into?”

Root carefully pulled her hoodie back on and zipped it up before answering.

“We handled it.”

“You weren't even going to take Reese with you.” She recalled that much from her hazy memories. “Why the hell did the Machine let you walk into that mess?”

Root finally met her eyes, and she looked slightly offended.

“The Machine helped as much as She could once we were already there, but She was against the idea initially. She thought we could wait until later when more people had left for the night and it was safer, but….” Root trailed off. “I didn't want to risk waiting.”

“Wouldn't have done me much good if you'd ended up dead.” Shaw briefly imagined what it would have been like to wake up with only Reese or Root there and the other one gone forever. None of Root's  individual injuries were that bad, but, taken together, the story they told said things easily could have gone much worse.

“Well, be sure to thank John then. I probably wouldn't have made it out of there without him.” Root didn't look angry, exactly, but she did look defiant and Shaw had a feeling this wasn't a debate she was going to win.

She still couldn't wrap her mind around the _why_ of it all, though. She wasn't a complete idiot; she got that Root…liked her. A lot. More than she'd realized and possibly more than Root had even realized. But why did Root like _her_? Other than the mindblowing sex and her toned body and how supremely badass she was, of course. Because those reasons were all obvious and easy, but they weren't the only reasons and that's where she still felt a little at a loss.

She didn't even begin to know how to ask that though, and she wasn't sure she wanted to, so she searched for something else to say.

“Uh, so, how would you feel about helping me run a few experiments?”

The surprise in Root's eyes only lasted a second and Shaw watched with amusement because she could _see_ the war on Root's face as she tried to decide whether or not to make some bad joke about experimenting.

“What type of experiments?” Root asked finally. Her smile was slightly suggestive which Shaw figured must have been the compromise she'd reached with herself.

“The kind where we figure out just exactly what that virus did to me.”

* * *

 

“How'd you want to handle this?” Reese asked just loudly enough to be heard over the crunch of their boots in the snow.

Shaw hadn’t thought this part through as much as she would have liked, so she didn't have a good answer for him.

“Since I'm not even sure what we're trying to do, I think we're going to have to improvise a bit.”

“And _I'm_ the one with bad plans,” Reese muttered without any real malice.

Root smiled at that. The fact that she and Reese seemed to be buddies now was still really weird to Shaw. Maybe raiding a Samaritan lab together and getting grounded by Carter had let them bond. Well, it was one less thing for Shaw to worry about.

“I know it's a bad plan, or more like a non-plan,” Shaw said, “but I need to know.”

Because something had been different since she’d woken up and she couldn't put her finger on what it was. As far as any of them could tell there were no noticeable side effects from either the virus or the antiviral. She definitely hadn't gotten more compliant, and she hadn't acquired any of the abilities the undead had--like night vision or super hearing--and yet she was positive something was slightly off.

Since none of them were eager to go back into the subway again just yet, she'd dragged them out to the other side of the river to steal a new car and go for a little walk in the woods. It also meant they got to get out in the open and breathe for a few hours, something the other two had been desperately in need of.

“Over there.” Root pointed. “Three of them.”

Sure enough, there were three undead wandering around where Root had pointed. Didn't look like they were the fast ones either, which made them perfect for this experiment.

“You two wait here.”

“Shaw…” Root looked disapproving.

“Wait here, but if I get in trouble you back me the hell up. Okay?” She was theoretically immune to reinfection now, which meant Root had no reason to fret, but Root had been a little odd about this whole trip from the get go.

“You got it.” Reese had a gun out with a silencer attached.

Shaw crept closer to the undead, trying to avoid their notice. She watched them carefully, alert to their every shuffling step. She didn't know quite what she was expecting, but there was nothing--no extra sense of where they were or what they were doing. Probably silly of her to have thought there might be, but she'd been so sure _something_ was different.

“Guess I might as well pay my respects to you bastards while I'm here then,” she said, stepping out from between the trees with her hammer raised.

And nothing happened. One of the undead turned slightly in her direction and then resumed its shuffling as if she wasn't standing there with a hammer looking menacing.

Well, wasn't _that_ interesting.

She swung her hammer in a lazy arc and crushed the head of the one closest to her. The other two turned towards the sound and once again failed to react.

“Guys, come over here,” she called softly to Reese and Root.

When the other two got closer, the remaining two undead snapped to attention and charged at them. Shaw had been ready for that and took one down with ease while Reese shot the second one.

“What was that about?” Root asked curiously.

“They don't register me as a threat, or a meal anymore.” Shaw looked thoughtfully down at the corpses. “Maybe they sense some dormant traces of the virus in my system. Could be useful.”

“If we give the cure to everyone in the city…” Reese looked more hopeful than Shaw had seen him in years.

“Think it needs to be vetted a little more before it's ready for widespread distribution, but yeah. We'd have a population who not only were immune, but who wouldn't be attacked.” It could be the beginning of a way to reclaim the world from the undead.

“We should head back now before it starts getting dark.” She'd got what she was after here.

“How did the Machine know this strain of the antiviral would work?” Shaw asked as they tramped through the snow. “Thought I was the only survivor.”

“Technically you are,” Root said. She was shivering a bit and her nose and cheeks were red from the cold. “Someone else survived with the cure, but he died soon after from other medical complications.”

“What sort of complications?”

“Whatever else it was Samaritan was doing to him.”

Ah, those sorts of complications. Shaw shook her head in disgust. They needed this cure badly, but what they'd seen in that lab was….

“Does the Machine have any idea about the virus evolving?” Reese asked. “Is that Samaritan’s work, too?”

Root tilted her head to the side, no doubt listening to the Machine. “Partly. It's evolving on its own to some extent, which is why the fast zombies are all over the country, but the awareness we've seen in the others is likely Samaritan’s doing, caused by their experiments.”

“Caused how? I thought they kept their failed experiments locked up or destroyed them.” Shaw thought about that metal door down in the basement lab again. There were bad ways to go, and then there was that.

“They dump some of them back in the subway or the wild. To see what happens I think. That's why it was so easy for us to get out at that one subway entrance near the lab--they use it to put the zombies back in the subway.”

“So they're creating worse versions of the virus and then releasing it into the wild? That's...really fucking dumb.” Half the time Samaritan seemed like some all-knowing evil god, and the other half of the time it was like a curious and malicious child.

“It is,” Root agreed. “Which is why we're going to stop it.”

“The Machine have a plan for that now?” Reese asked.

“Maybe, but not tonight. We have enough to think about for one day.”

Shaw had a feeling she knew why Root wanted to keep the rest of their evening free, and she wasn't going to object. After all, she still owed Root a very thorough thank you for saving her ass.

“Think we could all use a night to recover,” she said.

Reese gave a resigned sigh that said he knew exactly what was going on. “Maybe I should invest in a basement of my own.”

* * *

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Root scratched lines down Shaw's back as Shaw braced herself on one arm and changed the angle of her thrusts ever so slightly, the strap-on hitting a spot inside Root that made her tighten her legs around Shaw and meet her thrusts with a fierce desperation. She could feel herself clenching around the toy as Shaw pushed her closer and closer to the edge.

Shaw wasn't teasing tonight--she seemed intent on pulling as many orgasms out of Root as possible, driving her wild and leaving her wrung out and satisfied. She was definitely getting her money's worth out of the toy.

Root’s eyelids fluttered and her body tightened around Shaw as she fell over the edge for the third time that night.

Shaw kept moving slowly inside her as she recovered, and only eased to a stop once she'd relaxed, her limbs falling back to the bed useless and limp.

“Wait, not yet,” Root managed to say when Shaw started to pull out.

“You look like you're going to fall asleep,” Shaw said, but she slowly pushed back into Root--pulling a breathy moan from her--and then stilled herself once the strap-on was buried deep inside her again.

Since Shaw seemed to be waiting for a sign to continue, Root rallied enough to grab her ass with both hands and urge her to start moving. Shaw rolled her hips into her, almost gently, and set a pace that was slow and steady.

Earlier Root had needed to encourage her when Shaw had been a little too conscientious about her injuries, but the bruises looked much worse than they felt and a certain amount of pain was incredibly enjoyable in the right circumstances. Shaw had figured out how to navigate around her worst injuries pretty quickly, and Root had been touched rather than annoyed at Shaw’s caution. Just like how touched she was now that Shaw was taking her time and devoting so much attention to just making her feel good.

Root smiled up at her lazily, her hips tilting up slightly to help Shaw get just the right angle to make Root writhe beneath her. It was intoxicating feeling Shaw inside her and above her and all around her, like she was drowning in her. No, not quite drowning--more like soaking Shaw in through every place their bodies met.

She propped herself up on her elbows just a little (the shock of pain from the bullet wound on her arm only feeding into the sensations) so she could see where their bodies were joined, watch the strap-on sliding in and out of her as Shaw's hips thrust up against her.

She dropped back to the bed and wrapped a leg around Shaw to pull her tighter to her, deeper inside her. Another moan escaped her, and Shaw echoed it but tried to cut it off by biting lightly at Root's shoulder.

This was different from the almost frantic pace of their first round tonight, different from when she'd ridden Shaw hard for the second round, and different from the rough, hard fucking of their last round. Different from anything they'd done before.

Shaw's face was sweaty and flushed above her, and a drop of sweat rolled down her face from her temple to her jaw. Root reached up to brush it away with a thumb and left her hand resting on Shaw’s cheek. Shaw looked a little curious at the touch, one that was far more intimate than anything Root had done during sex before, but she didn't object.

Root wasn't sure how to process exactly what she felt right now. There was the building pressure--almost too much to stand--from Shaw's deep, even strokes, and the very open way Shaw met her gaze, and how gentle Shaw was being now, almost as if she was afraid Root would break under her when she came again.

Whatever this was--and Root was damn sure she knew _exactly_ what it was--was something she'd never felt before, not in this way. She'd never imagined wanting anything like this...this feeling of connection to another human.

When she came again it was with Shaw's name on her lips and her arms clutching desperately at her. It was incredibly intense, pulling everything she was feeling from deep within her and leaving her hollowed out and completely spent, both physically and emotionally. She only partly registered Shaw coming only seconds after her, but the warm weight of Shaw collapsed against her chest felt very solid and real.

Shaw pulled out carefully and the bed shifted under her weight as she climbed out. Root didn't really expect her to come back, expecting her to want some space after that last round, but she did, sliding in next to Root and pulling the covers up over both of them.

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

“You're totally wrecked, aren't you?” Shaw asked, and Root thought she sounded almost fond and definitely a bit proud of herself.

“Mmhmm. I think we can say that if there’d actually been any debt to repay it would be thoroughly paid off now.” She was careful not to say anything about how Shaw was pressed up against her, on her side looking down at Root's face. She didn't want to scare her off from what was very nearly the dreaded act of cuddling that Shaw so deeply abhorred.

“Hmm.” Shaw gave her a considering look. “Maybe this is actually rewarding reckless behavior. I should rethink my strategy.”

It took Root half a second to notice the tiny quirk of Shaw's lips that accompanied her words. Shaw was teasing her. It threw her off just long enough that she missed out on a opportunity to get in some good innuendo about being punished for her recklessness because Shaw started talking again and it drove every other thought from Root’s mind.

“Wouldn't have put you down as being reckless on someone else's behalf. You spent five years not getting involved except when the Machine asked you to, and then you ran right into danger.”

The ‘for me’ hung unspoken in the air.

There was an unasked question there, and Root knew the answer Shaw didn't want, so she searched her groggy mind for a better way of explaining it.

“Remember when you asked me why I worked for the Machine?”

“Back on the day we ended up at the safe house, right?”

Root nodded and watched Shaw try to put together the pieces.

“You said she cared about things, about people, because she chose to even though there was nothing in her code telling her she had to.”

Shaw had remembered, and that proof that Shaw actually _listened_ to her thrilled Root.

“And that's why you like...why you like working with her?”

Root nodded but stayed quiet, not wanting to say the wrong thing now.

Shaw looked a little troubled.

“Wouldn't you want her to care about you by default without having to...analyze it? Like if you could change her code?”

“Of course not!” Root was so horrified by the idea that for a second she forgot that they weren't exactly talking about the Machine here. Or not just the Machine. But remembering that only made her more upset by the idea. “Of course not.” It came out a little softer this time.

Shaw wasn't looking at her anymore, and Root couldn't tell what was going on behind the flat expression on her face. She’d run out of words for the time being, so instead she rolled onto her side to face Shaw and dropped a hand onto her hip. Her thumb rubbed back and forth across Shaw's skin, slightly too hard to be soothing, but she didn't think soothing was what Shaw needed right now.

Shaw still didn't say anything, and after a minute or two she shut her eyes and let out a slow breath. “Thanks. For going back for the second dose, I mean.”

“You don't have to thank…” Root stopped herself. “You're welcome, Sameen.”

“And don't do it again or you’re sleeping on the floor.”

Root would have slept out in the snow if it meant keeping Shaw safe, but she kept that to herself.

“I'll be good.”

Shaw snorted. “Now _that_ I highly doubt.” She hadn't opened her eyes, but the amusement from earlier was back in her voice.

“Being good is no fun.” Root pressed her thumb down extra hard against Shaw's hip and smirked at the way it made Shaw twitch and inhale sharply. “For either of us.”

Shaw plucked Root's hand off her hip, but instead of brushing her off, she tugged Root's arm so it was draped over her hip and gave it a warning pat before releasing it. Seemingly satisfied she settled down into her pillow with a content sigh.

Root didn't shut her eyes until long after Shaw fell asleep, forcing herself to stay awake and watch Shaw's peaceful, sleeping face for as long as she could.

When she woke up in the morning, Shaw had rolled over onto her stomach, but Root's arm was still draped over her, palm resting on her warm back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be a longer chapter with plot stuff happening after this but I decided to let it stand on its own.


	10. An Unexpected Visitor

It took Shaw over half an hour to find Root, and in the end she only managed to because of the very clear tracks in the snow that led away from the basement and around to the entrance of the abandoned apartment building they lived under. A small shower of snow made her look up before she entered the building, and she spotted movement on the fire escape.

She opted to go up the stairs inside the building rather than try and climb the snowy metal structure. Root must have done the same since the door to the apartment on the top floor was wide open. The far window was as well, curtain billowing in the cold breeze.

“You scoping out the neighborhood?” Shaw asked as she climbed out onto the metal fire escape next to Root. The landing had been partially cleared of snow and Root sat with her legs dangling over the side, her arms crossed on the lower rung of the metal railing.

“Just needed somewhere to breathe for an hour or two.”

Root slid over a little to make room for her, but Shaw hesitated.

“I can go. Was just wondering where you'd disappeared to.”

She'd woken up alone and had felt something almost like worry--worry that Root had decided not to risk her again and had gone off to fight Samaritan on her own like an idiot.

Or that she'd just left. It was hard to imagine that now, but the traitorous thought had crossed Shaw's mind anyway. She wasn't completely sure how to categorize this thing they had going on between them, but she _was_ sure that it'd reached a point where it would be extremely rude for Root to just up and disappear.

“No, just cabin fever. Or basement fever, I suppose. The city feels so claustrophobic sometimes and I wanted to get up somewhere high. Get some air.” Root looked back over her shoulder at her with a smile. “You're welcome to stay.”

Shaw didn't have any other plans for the morning, so she sat down next to Root and let her legs hang over the edge. They weren't that high up by city standards, but it was one of the taller buildings in the area and gave them a view of the snow covered neighborhood below. Nothing stirred other than occasional drifts of snow, blown around by the frigid wind.

It was damn cold up here, Shaw realized. She had a coat on, but it wasn't her warmest and she'd neglected to bring gloves or a hat or scarf. Root actually looked prepared, wrapped in a long black coat that was several sizes too large for her and looked suspiciously familiar.

Shaw was surprised to find she was a bit annoyed that Root had stolen clothes from someone other than her. Was her winter coat not good enough for Root to steal?

“Reese know you stole his coat?”

“I didn't steal it. He gave it to me. I just never returned it.”

Typical Root logic. And Shaw was even more annoyed now because the coat looked really damn warm and she was freezing.

She watched Root out of the corner of her eye, surreptitiously examining her bruised up cheek. Out in the daylight the bruises were far more noticeable and Shaw wondered again just what the hell had happened on that mission. There was a small cut on her cheekbone that was almost hidden by the bruising. Had someone punched her, or had something hit her?

“What happened to Reese's leg?” she asked, hoping to come at her real question from the side.

Root didn't look away from the view, but Shaw saw her lips tighten for a fraction of a second.

“He got grazed by a bullet in the fight.”

Well, obviously. “Were there a lot of Samaritan agents there?”

Root sighed. “I suppose there were a few.”

“Did they rush you guys?”

Root didn't answer at first and then shook her head slightly. “There were a lot more of them than we expected. We were holding our own alright at first, but we got pinned down. It was...I don't remember the exact order everything happened in, but they were all suddenly too close and things got a bit violent. One of them hit me with something, his gun maybe, and John got shot while he was trying to disarm some guy, and--” Root let out a small humorless laugh. “--I don't even know how I got cut. But then they were all down and we were still standing.”

It sounded to Shaw like they'd rushed in without doing any recon at all, and that they'd been really damn lucky to get out alive.

She thought about the talk she'd had with Root the previous night, and about how at ease she'd felt while she'd fallen asleep with Root’s hand on her hip. Stuff like this should have made her want to bail out, or at least feel uncomfortable sitting here with Root and listening to her relate how she'd almost gotten her dumb ass killed for Shaw's sake, but even with the tips of her ears freezing in the cold wind, she didn't have any urge to leave yet.

She looked up, startled when Root started to stand up. Somehow it had never occurred to her that _Root_ might be the one to leave. But Root only squirmed her way out of Reese’s oversized coat and then plopped back down next to her and attempted to wrap the coat around both of them which was just ridiculous because even if Reese was some kind of abnormal giant, his coat wasn't big enough for this. Root was doing a lousy job of trying to get the coat around Shaw's far shoulder and Shaw reached out to grab the edge of the coat and properly haul it around herself and then froze, realizing that she was not only allowing, but encouraging this ridiculous situation.

Root's solution to the coat not quite fitting over both of them was to squeeze herself so close to Shaw she was practically in her lap. This was not even slightly how Shaw had wanted this to go, but the wind picked up again, blowing puffs of snow across the fire escape, and okay it was kind of warmer like this and...fine.

“Your teeth were chattering,” Root explained about five minutes after a normal person would have thought it appropriate to explain basically crawling into someone's lap.

“No, they weren't.” It was not her best lie.

Root made a noise suspiciously like a muffled laugh which Shaw resolutely ignored by focusing on the view of the snow-covered city.

Back before all this had started, New York City streets were usually plowed before dawn, and the snow of the sidewalks heaped to the side in greyish-brown piles. But there was no one to plow or shovel or put salt down anymore, and barely any foot traffic in this neighborhood. Everything looked pristine and untouched and much cleaner than New York had any right to look.

“Do you miss it?” Root asked out of nowhere.

“Miss what?”

“The world before all this started.”

Shaw opened her mouth to say of course she did, because obviously everything about this world sucked. But the thing was she didn't miss it in any deep, internalized way. She didn't daydream about the world they'd lost or envision the world they were trying to rebuild. She wanted Samaritan gone and the undead dealt with and some kind of semblance of order back, but in some ways that wouldn't change much for her. She'd like things to get to a point where they were less boring and she could go back to knee-capping people on a regular basis, but she didn't feel the sense of loss that she knew Reese and Carter and basically everyone else did.

Somehow she didn't think Root felt it either. Root definitely missed the Machine being able to talk to her freely, and she was dedicated to restoring the world for her, but Shaw didn't get the sense Root actually gave a shit about that world they'd lost. Not really. Maybe they were the only two in this shitty world who didn't fully miss what they'd lost.

“I miss reliable plumbing and electricity,” she said. She wanted to explain the rest of it to Root, but she wasn't sure how. “I guess...I'm not sure where I'll fit in with whatever comes after this. I wasn't exactly a model citizen before, and rebuilding the world isn't really my thing.”

“What would you…” Root stiffened against her and sat up straight. “Samaritan.”

Shaw scanned the streets below, instinctively, half-expecting to see armed men on their way to the basement.

“There's an agent coming.” Root stood up and the coat fell off of them to the metal floor of the fire escape. “I'm not sure what she knows, but she must at least suspect….”

“She?” It wasn't like there weren't other female agents, but she knew who it had to be. “Martine. She's coming here?”

Root climbed back in the window and turned to wait for her to follow.

“They must suspect us somehow? No one saw our faces, She’s very sure, but they must have some reason to think we might be involved. We're going to have to improvise, I'm afraid.”

Shaw dumped Reese’s coat back inside and climbed in after it. “ _We_ aren't going to do anything. You're going to stay hidden up here until we've dealt with her. Samaritan might be fooled by your fake identity, but Martine will have seen pictures of you.”

Root frowned. “I can hide in the basement. In case you need backup.”

“Hide where exactly?” There was nowhere in the basement to hide. “You stay up here until it's clear. Reese and I will handle this.”

“But what if she…”

Shaw jabbed a finger at her face. “No.”

Root didn't look nearly as impressed with the command as Bear usually did.

“You need me down there. The Machine can't help you unless I'm there.”

“She can't help us at all then if you're dead or captured.” But Shaw could see her argument wasn't going to be good enough. She changed tactics. “If she recognizes you, it's going to get us all killed. Carter. Reese. Me.”

She saw the slight flinch in Root's eyes, a tiny shred of fear that hadn't been there when Shaw had only been talking about Root's life being in danger. She watched the defiance in Root's eyes slowly turn into sullen acceptance.

“Fine. But get rid of her fast.”

The implication that Root would storm in if they took too long went without saying. Shaw hoped the Machine could keep her in check. The last thing they needed was a dead Samaritan agent in their basement.

“Trust me, I intend to.” She gave Root one last warning look and then headed back towards the hall.

* * *

 

“How charming,” Martine said in a tone that would have been better used to describe finding a dead squirrel on the front steps than to compliment someone's home.

Shaw exchanged a glance with Reese and bit back her caustic reply. They needed to get Martine out of here and the best way to do that was to be as boring as possible, to not engage her.

She was glad that Bear was with Fusco today. It was his kid's birthday and she'd begrudgingly allowed Bear to spend the day playing in the snow with them. Better he was out romping around than down here potentially growling at Martine. Because if Martine even looked crosseyed at Bear, Shaw would be forced to shoot her.

“Are you looking for something in particular?” Reese asked.

Martine ran one finger along the counter top, and then examined it. She sniffed in disapproval.

“All the abandoned real estate in Manhattan to choose from, and you two go for a basement.”

“Discourages visitors,” Shaw said, unable to help herself.

Martine’s answering smile was cold and full of teeth.

“So the barely furnished room would be yours, Shaw, and the room with the rack of suits and the tacky lamp belongs to this one--” She waved a hand to indicate Reese.

Shaw almost smirked because she'd told Reese his stupid gun-shaped lamp was a travesty plenty of times and he’d always maintained that it gave the room atmosphere.

Martine was oblivious to the silent decorating drama occurring and continued. “--But what's behind door number three?”

Reese had chosen to stand directly in front of the little hall that Root's room was off of, which perhaps wasn't the best way to divert attention from it, but Shaw figured Martine had come here on a mission so it wouldn't have mattered where he stood.

“That's Veronica’s room,” she said, silently thanking the Machine for that infuriating cover that she'd made for Root. “She's out now.”

“Veronica Sinclair, right?” Martine made a little shooing gesture at Reese to get him to move. “Another former ISA agent. You lot do seem to stick together, don't you?”

Reese begrudgingly moved out of the way, because they didn't really have a choice here. If Martine felt like it she could have every Samaritan agent on the island down here in minutes.

Martine didn't move right away. “You know, Lambert keeps saying we should recruit you. Or at least Shaw. But I think your loyalties are too set for you to ever be useful to Samaritan.” Martine shrugged. “I'm not the boss, though. But then neither is Lambert.”

“How's Greer doing these days?” Reese asked.

Martine smiled again and went down the hall to push Root's door open. Shaw trailed along behind, hoping that the very brief sweep she'd had time for had gotten anything incriminating hidden away.

“Well, she certainly has...personality, doesn't she?” Martine mused, looking over Root's room.

Shaw wasn't sure exactly when Root had found time to go shopping (or possibly scavenging) for decorations, but there'd been some recent changes to her room. Her new sheets were black and had planets all over them, and there was a stuffed tiger tucked in that Shaw really hoped Root had washed at some point. There were also a couple raggedy posters and pieces of paper taped to the wall: a map of the known universe, a sheet of paper with a very realistic drawing of an eye on it that upon closer inspection had been drawn out of tiny 0’s and 1’s, a diagram of the large hadron collider, and a pencil sketch of Bear that Shaw immediately recognized because she'd been the one to draw it and how the hell had Root found it?

“Are you looking for anything specific?” Shaw asked, doing her best to sound bored. What she really wanted to do was shoot Martine and dump her corpse in the river for the undead on the bottom of the Hudson.

“When do you expect Veronica back?”

“Who knows. She wanders off a lot, sometimes gone for days at a time.” That wouldn't make Martine less suspicious, but at least it wouldn't give her a reason to try to wait.

Martine leaned in to inspect the drawing of Bear. “And what exactly does she do while she's here?”

“Mostly gets on Reese’s nerves.”

Reese had come to stand in the doorway and grimaced when he heard that, but Shaw could see from his eyes that he was actually worried. Worried for Root.

Martine took one last look around Root's room before turning back towards them. “Well, this has been fun, but I have better things to do than hang out in a basement all day.”

Reese stepped aside to let her pass and they both followed her back into the main room.

“Why are you so interested in Veronica anyway?” Shaw asked.

Martine smiled coldly. “We have a mutual friend.” She gave a little wave over her shoulder as she headed for the stairs. “Tell _Veronica_ I'll see her soon.”

“She knows,” Reese said as soon as they were sure Martine was gone. “She knows about Root.”

Shaw’s mind was racing as she tried to think through what to do next. “She suspects, but she's not sure. And they want to capture her alive, so they're going to be careful.”

The fact they wanted her alive was even more ominous now that Shaw had seen the inside of a Samaritan lab. It wasn't going to be safe for Root to stay around here if Martine was going to be keeping watch.

“What're you going to do?” Reese asked.

“We can't let Samaritan find her.” She knew what Reese was asking and what their options were now, but she needed more time to think through all the possibilities.

They both turned back towards the stairs at the sound of footsteps.

“What'd she want?” Root asked without preamble. She had a look in her eye like back when they'd first found her, like a cornered animal ready to bolt or fight.

“She was looking for Veronica.” Shaw watched her closely as she spoke. “Think she might be suspicious about your identity. Any idea what might have tipped her off?”

Root shook her head. “The Machine isn't sure. We were careful, but maybe Samaritan saw me and John on a camera and guessed despite not being able to see our faces?” She huddled inside of Reese’s oversized coat, looking more tired than scared. “I’m going to get you two killed if I stay here.”

“That's not--” Reese started, but Shaw cut him off.

“Probably. Carter, too, if they put things together.”

She saw Root's jaw clench. Reese was looking at her a little critically, like he thought she was being unnecessarily blunt, but being tactful here wouldn't change the situation.

“What were the next steps in the Machine's plans?” Shaw asked. “And how much did Martine fuck that up for us?”

“A lot. Maybe. I'm...not completely sure.” Root looked around the basement almost desperately before her gaze landed back on Shaw. “I need to get out of the city, regroup somewhere, give Her time to figure out how to manage things now that I've been compromised.”

There was something bitter about the way Root said the last word that made Shaw frown slightly. If Root went around blaming herself for this it wasn't going to help anything.

“They're probably watching this place now.” Shaw turned to Reese. “We're going to have to leave after dark, but we might need a distraction, too.”

She'd worked with Reese long enough that he could pick up her meanings quickly.

“You're not going without me, Shaw.”

“We both leave then there's no one here to help Carter, and it makes our connection to her more suspicious. Right now I'm the only one tied to Root’s cover story. You didn't work with her in the ISA and might never have met her until she showed up here.”

She saw the the annoyed acceptance on Reese’s face when he gave a minute nod.

“When?” he asked.

“Tonight.” Shaw turned back to Root. “Unless the Machine has other plans?”

Root had the strangest expression on her face that Shaw wasn't sure how to interpret. “No, She's been telling me it's not safe here ever since Martine showed up. She...She's working on a larger plan, but She says for right now I need to go somewhere safe.” Root didn't sound happy about that.

Shaw nodded. “We'll take the boat after dark tonight. I'll get some supplies together and we can stay in the safe house for a little while at least.”

“The snow,” Reese pointed out. “Not like any of the roads have been cleared.”

“Guess we'll have to steal a good car.” She turned away to head for her room. She’d need to pack light--not that she owned much anyway--but they were almost certainly going to end up on foot at some point. They were going to need to be well armed, too, and dressed for the cold.

When she got back from her room, her pack stuffed full of everything she could think they might need, she found that Root hadn't left the room. She was sitting at the table talking quietly to Reese.

“Root? What's going on?”

Root’s head was tilted forwards, her hair hiding her face. “Nothing. I'll go get ready.”

Shaw raised an eyebrow in question at Reese after Root left. “What's up with her?”

Reese looked a bit awkward. “She didn't exactly say, but I think she doesn't want to leave.”

“Martine isn't going to stop looking for her, and Samaritan…”

“Yeah, she knows all that, but it's--” Reese grimaced, clearly having a hard time explaining. “--it's been a long time since she's had somewhere real to stay. Can't blame her for not wanting to leave.”

Shaw thought about how jumpy Root had been when she'd first gotten here, how she'd slept in her clothes under the bed, and now how she slept naked and at ease next to Shaw, and how she'd decorated her room.

“Oh.”

They stood there in awkward silence until Reese cleared his throat.

“There's one more thing you should take.”

* * *

 

“We could hide you two somewhere else in the city until all this dies down a bit,” Carter suggested again.

Shaw finished tying the boat to the dock before she responded.

“Samaritan is an AI. It's not going to get bored or lose interest and it's got cameras everywhere.” She stood up and dusted herself off. “There's a reason Root spent so many years out in the middle of nowhere.”

“There's no backup out there. You two get in trouble, there's no one who can help you.”

Shaw started pulling their gear out of the boat. A heavy pack each for her and Root, and the small cooler Reese had suggested they take that she planned to strap to the bottom of her pack to leave her hands free.

“There's the Machine. She kept Root alive out there for five years, and considering Root's extreme lack of self-preservation skills, that's pretty impressive.”

Carter sighed in exasperation. “Yeah, she does enjoy charging in blindly when she gets worked up, doesn't she? Reminds me a bit of John.”

Their two impulsive teammates were currently off trying to find a suitable car, and Shaw wondered if maybe she should have gone with Reese to do that and left Root here with Carter to mind the boat. She'd been unable to get any details on the little mission Carter and Root had gone on while Shaw had been incapacitated. Reese had just looked slightly traumatized when asked about it.

“Both of them are a pain in my ass,” Shaw agreed. Maybe she could put Root on a leash to keep her out of trouble.

She froze when her brain caught up with _that_ thought. Thank god she hadn't said that out loud.

“Well, Root's your pain in the ass now, so you get to keep an eye on her,” Carter said.

“How is she _my_ responsibility?”

Carter just gave her a pitying look. “You’re right, it must have been someone else you dropped everything to run off into the wilderness with to protect.”

Shaw was spared coming up with a pithy retort to that by the arrival of a large black SUV that Reese managed to park without ramming into anything.

“It's not going to stand up to really deep snow, but it'll be better than a normal car at least,” Reese said when he got out. He tossed the keys to her.

“Shaw.” Carter's voice made her turn around. “Take care of yourself out there, too. Thinking you were going to die once already was enough for me.” Carter looked too serious and Shaw had to look away. She nodded stiffly and set off towards the car.

“Watch each other's backs out there,” Reese said as he stepped aside to let her in the car. Beyond him she could see Root huddled in the passenger's seat, staring back at the dark city across the river.

She was glad Reese wasn't making this awkward at least.

“Two weeks from now, you meet me at the second building past the pier on this side of the river.” Shaw motioned vaguely in the right direction. It wasn't very far from where they were, but it was too dark to see clearly. “You know the one. Has a blue door. We'll assess the situation again then and figure out what to do next.”

“I'll be there.”

“You'd better be. Or I'm coming into the city to find you. And take care of my dog.”

She'd wanted to take Bear with her, but in terms of practicality it made sense for Bear to stay in the relatively safe city with a stable food supply. Logical, but she was still bitter about it.

Reese smiled a little and stepped away from the car.

“Ready to go?” Shaw asked as she climbed into the driver's seat.

“As ready as I'll ever be.”

“We'll come back, you know.” It was a new thing, this urge she felt to reassure Root. Reassurances weren't really her thing.

“Of course.” Root didn't sound convinced.

Shaw threw a two finger salute to Carter and Reese on the pier and put the car in reverse.

* * *

 

“Knock it off.”

Root paused momentarily in the middle of tuning the radio dial from one channel of static to the next and then continued as if she hadn't heard. There was something about the static she found comforting.

Shaw grumbled under her breath but didn't tell her to stop again.

Root finally took pity on her and switched it off. She sat back in her chair and wrapped her coat (formerly John's coat) more tightly around herself. The car had warmed up a bit in the time they'd been driving, but it was still chilly.

She glanced over at Shaw who was focused on navigating through the snow. She still couldn't believe that Shaw hadn’t even hesitated to leave her entire life behind and set off into the wilderness just because Root was in danger. She thought maybe she should try to act more grateful, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd just left behind the closest thing she'd ever have to a home.

“I'm sorry you got dragged into this mess with me,” she said, watching Shaw's profile out of the corner of her eye.

“Not your fault.”

Root couldn't tell from her tone if she was actually bothered or not.

“You had to leave your home behind because I was careless.”

Shaw made an irritated noise. “If your little raid on the Samaritan lab is _actually_ what tipped them off, you were still doing it to try and save my life.”

“That's true, but…”

“So knock it off and let me help save yours, okay?”

Root’s lips twitched as she held back a smile. “Okay, Sameen.”

* * *

 

The SUV did a good job with the snow, but they had to abandon it about an hour's hike away from the safe house when the snow drifts were too deep and they risked getting stuck. Better to have the option to be able to drive it back later.

Root had been out in the winter plenty over the last five years (although the Machine had tried to find her warm places to hole up as much as possible), but the blizzard that had picked up during their drive was worse than most she'd seen. Between the heavy snowfall and the strong winds visibility was extremely low and their progress had slowed to a crawl.

She felt about as miserable as she'd felt in quite a while and hadn't even had it in her to make an inappropriate joke when Shaw had taken a rope out of her pack and explained that she was going to tie them together. Now they had a long piece of rope tied to each of their belts to keep them from getting separated in the blizzard.

Shaw was a couple steps ahead of her leading the way up the hill (though Root wasn't sure how she could tell where they were headed in the storm) and Root was just doing her best to watch her back and step in her footprints. She thought about Shaw's answer to her question that morning about what she missed from the old world. Heating and hot chocolate were high up on her list right now.

She almost ran straight into Shaw before she realized Shaw had come to a halt.

“What's wrong?” She hoped Shaw wasn't lost. The Machine was having trouble communicating with them in the storm and She couldn't get a clear picture of where they were either.

“They're out there.”

Root looked around them but only saw endless snow driving down in every direction.

“Where? How many?”

“Not sure. Keep seeing motion out of the corner of my eye. Definitely not just snow or wind.” Shaw pulled her hammer off of her pack. “We'll keep moving, but keep your guard up.”

Root tried to keep an eye out as they started forwards through the snow again, but if something was out there, she couldn't see it.

It occurred to her that she was the one in danger here. If what they'd seen before held true, then Shaw was safe from the zombies. Of course they couldn't be sure that included the slightly more advanced zombies.

Shaw stopped again. “Get ready.”

Root didn't see the first one until it was almost on them. It came hurtling out of the storm, fast and sure footed, like the almost knee-high snow drifts didn't bother it at all. Shaw pivoted and smashed it easily with her hammer and a trail of old blood and gore stained the white snow.

The rest of them charged then, coming out of the snow on all sides, and Root lost herself in the fight, tuning out everything but her instincts. Her fingers were stiff with the cold, even in their gloves, but somehow she lost track of that as she ducked under a decayed grasping hand and straightened up to swing her machete into the zombie’s face.

It was an odd sort of fight, not only because of the snow and the awkwardness of the rope tied between them, but because all the zombies tried to run right past Shaw to get at Root. The fact Shaw’s safety was being confirmed would have been a relief to Root if it weren't for the fact she was now the sole target. She could tell Shaw was frustrated too, forced to fight against enemies who didn't respond the way she was used to.

The attack couldn't have lasted more than a minute or two, but it felt like it went on for hours, like they were trapped in some weird time bubble out in the snowy world, a million miles away from anything real.

Root lowered her weapon as the last zombie crumpled to the ground and stepped back, panting. A brush of snow on her leg was the only warning she had before a zombie burst up from under the snow, scrambling to grab her. She jumped back, trying to get it to let go of her leg, and tripped, falling into a snowbank.

Then Shaw was there and the zombie wasn’t moving anymore, its skull caved in from Shaw’s hammer.

They both waited for a few seconds, braced for another attack, but nothing stirred in the storm. Root shut her eyes and tried to get herself to calm down, lose the battle adrenaline and breathe steadily.

“You okay?” Shaw asked from nearby.

“I'm fine. None of them bit me.”

Though the small cooler Shaw had strapped to her pack had a contingency plan for that.

“We need to keep moving then.”

Root let Shaw pull her back to her feet and they continued on in silence.

* * *

 

“Home sweet home.” Root looked around the dark living room of the safe house. She knew it was silly to be upset about having to leave the basement, that getting attached to a place was a luxury she couldn't afford.

“At least there's no snow in here,” Shaw said, rubbing her hands together and blowing on them. The safe house was warmer than being in the storm outside, but it was drafty and didn't have any heating.

“I've been stuck in worse places during storms.” Root had developed a deep hatred of the winter in the last few years. “And at least I have company this time, you know, in case we need to share body heat.”

Shaw chuckled at that and draped her wet coat over a chair. “There's a bunch of canned food in the basement for emergencies, which I guess this sort of is, and we can boil melted snow for water. No shortage of that at least.”

Root had made do with far less over the years. An actual cache of canned food was the height of luxury these days.

“The Machine get back in touch with you?” Shaw asked. She started stripping off the rest of her wet clothes.

“Not really. The storm is making it hard for Her.” Root felt miserable enough from the cold that she hurried to follow Shaw's example rather than taking the time to watch the show.

“When she comes back online, we all need to have a chat about what comes next.” Shaw fished around in her pack and tossed a towel at Root. “Here. Dry off first.”

They decided to set up their stuff in the bedroom they'd stayed in last time (the fact they'd be sharing a room wasn’t even discussed, though Root was unsure if that was because of how cold it was, or if them sleeping in the same place at night was now a given) and Shaw raided the dusty linen cabinets for all the blankets and sheets she could find. There was almost no furniture left in the place since it had all been used to board up the windows and doors years ago, so they made a huge pile of blankets and pillows on the floor as far from the drafty windows as they could.

“Where'd you put the cooler?” Root asked as she tried to towel dry her hair a bit more. Even with the fresh change of clothes she still felt chilled to the bone.

“Stuck it in a snowbank outside the door. At least keeping it cold won't be an issue.” Shaw watched her from the doorway.

They'd stolen five doses of the cure when they'd gone to get the second one for Shaw. One they'd given to Shaw, three were in a safe location that only Carter and Reese knew of, and the last one was in a cooler outside their safe house just in case.

“The Machine thinks that batch of the cure is relatively safe,” Root started cautiously. Shaw had not reacted well the last time she'd brought this up.

“And if she's wrong? We're not using you as a human guinea pig, Root.”

“She’d never suggest it if She weren't sure.”

Shaw looked unconvinced, but she didn't say anything else and Root decided to drop the subject for the day. Tomorrow after they'd settled in more there'd be plenty of time to discuss it.

Shaw went down to the basement to check on the food supplies and Root curled up in the nest of blankets. She was pretty worn out from hiking through the snow and the fight with the zombies, and she drifted off before Shaw came back.

She woke up a little while later, half-panicked, and lashed out with an elbow before she'd fully gained consciousness.

“Hey!”

She stilled, realizing that the warm weight pressed up against her back was actually Shaw, and not a zombie.

“Sorry, sweetie.” Shaw’s arms were looped around her loosely and her body was curled around Root's.

“You were shivering in your sleep.” Shaw sounded defensive.

She tried to withdraw her hands, but Root grabbed her arms and pulled them more snuggly around herself. Really Shaw had no one to blame but herself for this situation. Shaw relaxed after a second and settled back up against her.

“Reese said…” Shaw shifted around a bit. “He said you didn't want to leave the city.”

“That's...it's complicated.” John would get annoyingly insightful at the worst time, wouldn't he. Still, it was bitterly ironic that just that morning she'd been feeling a bit claustrophobic in the basement and now she'd give anything to go back.

“Don't think wanting to have a place to come home to is complicated. Or it shouldn't have to be.” Shaw breathed out against the back of her neck. “But anyway, my point is, we'll go back when we can.”

Root felt warmer suddenly. Shaw was trying to make her feel better. “Samaritan is going to be watching for us now.”

“Good thing we're working on taking it out then.”

“True. Though if we really take down Samaritan, you can probably move somewhere nicer than a basement.”

“We already could, you know. Reese and I could have found a much nicer place ages ago.”

Root had wondered about that. “Why didn't you?” She was trying hard to ignore the ticklish sensation from Shaw's fingers brushing her stomach under the thin shirt she'd worn to bed.

“We like the basement. No windows, one door, in a mostly unpopulated area of town, near the subway entrance. Guess we just never felt like we needed to move.”

Shaw's fingers brushed a little more purposefully this time. It didn't feel like she was trying to instigate anything though (Root thought they were both too worn out for that), it just felt...nice.

“Be a lot easier for you to find somewhere fancier with Samaritan gone though,” Shaw continued.

“What if I didn't want to?” Root asked so quietly she wasn't sure if Shaw heard at first.

“We gave you a room. It's your place too now. If you want, I mean.”

God did she ever want that, more than anything else. She couldn't explain to Shaw how much though so she stuck with saying, “Thank you, Sameen.”

“Don't thank me, you’ll have to put up with sharing a tiny bathroom with me and Reese.”

“Hmm, good point.” Definitely still worth it, but she let Shaw's attempt to lighten the conversion stand. “Not sure I want to save the world if that's my only reward.”

Shaw laughed quietly, the reverberation of it travelling through Root's body. They fell silent after that and Shaw drifted off a few minutes later, her body going heavy against Root's back. It was a warm, reassuring weight and Root fell back asleep feeling safe despite everything. They'd figure it all out in the morning.

* * *

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Shaw woke up disoriented. Not only was she not in the basement, but she had Root snug up against her in the curve of her body. She'd definitely never woken up holding someone before.

It was really warm under the covers with their combined body heat and Root was soft and heavy with sleep against her. She allowed that maybe this wasn't the _worst_ way to wake up ever.

She could definitely think of at least one better way to wake up though, and since Root had made it pretty explicitly clear that Shaw was more than welcome to wake her up in a fun way whenever she wanted, well, why not.

Root turned out to be an unfortunately light sleeper when it came to surprise morning sex, her eyes fluttering open almost as soon as Shaw's hand dipped between her legs.

“Well, good--” Her breath hitched a little as Shaw's fingers explored. “--good morning to you, too, sweetie.”

She pressed back into Shaw with her ass at the same pace as Shaw's circling fingers. Shaw brushed Root's hair away from her neck with her free hand so she could bite lightly at it.

“Guess someone slept well.” The teasing that had been absent from Root's voice all yesterday was back and Shaw realized she'd missed it.

Root’s hand reached back so she could dig her fingers into Shaw's ass cheek and encourage her to press closer and move against her. Shaw hooked an ankle over Root's leg, locking them together from head to foot. Root was plenty worked up now, slick and wet beneath Shaw's touch, and Shaw eased into her with a single finger, keeping things slow and playful. They were going to be stuck here together with nothing to do but each other, so there'd be plenty of time for rough and hard later.

Root pressed herself into Shaw's steady thrusts, and a small whimper escaped her that sent a bolt of heat straight through Shaw. She'd never been much of one to care about her partners vocalizing or not during sex, but damn if there wasn't something really hot about pulling so many desperate noises from Root.

It didn't last nearly as long as Shaw would have liked--Root clamping down on her fingers and moaning in a really gratifying way when she came--but Shaw felt a little proud of herself as Root lay sweaty and breathing hard in the circle of her arms. She was busy enough congratulating herself that she wasn't ready for Root to roll over and shove her onto her back, kicking the covers away as she went.

“My turn,” Root said gleefully in a sing-song voice that Shaw would have rolled her eyes at if she hadn't been distracted by the feeling of Root's tongue between her legs.

She weaved a hand through Root's hair to pull her in closer. Definitely not a bad way to spend the morning at all.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

“What do you know about the independent human settlements?” Root asked from across the crates they'd set up as a makeshift table.

“Independent settlements? You mean the people who escaped from the cities?” Shaw poked at her canned fruit without much enthusiasm. She should have put real food on the list of things she missed. Maybe she'd try hunting later on. Root would probably enjoy watching that. “They're mostly criminals who Samaritan would have killed. They banded together to form fortified towns and stuff. You probably know more about them than I do.”

Root nodded. “True, but there's one in particular She's interested in. She seems to think you know some of the people in charge.”

“Oh. Yeah.” She hadn't thought about all them in ages. “Didn’t know they were still around. Why?”

“She thinks we'll need their help.”

That sounded like trouble, but the kind of trouble Shaw could get behind. “She have a plan then?”

Root nodded. “She does.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maarika made an adorable piece of shoot from the beginning of this chapter. [check it out!](https://themaarika.tumblr.com/post/178079136432/youve-all-heard-of-scarf-sharing-now-get-ready)
> 
> I feel like both a lot and not much happened in this chapter at the same time. It took me forever to figure out what was actually going to happen while writing. Mostly I just wanted to write a couple softer shoot moments and figured out how to fit that in with some plot progression bits.
> 
> I'm trying to work towards an ending for this fic a couple chapters down the line. Obviously there's a lot (everything) left to be resolved, but I think I know how it's all going to work now? Maybe? Usually any planning ahead I do ceases to matter the minute I actually sit down to start writing, but I'm hopeful.


	11. Monsters Love Small Towns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not sure how quickly ao3 sends out new chapter posted emails, but apologies if you got two of them and the first one didn't work. the edit and post buttons are right next to each other and i was editing on mobile while not fully awake.

Shaw took her time scouting out the woods around the house. The safe house was technically part of a town, but the houses in the area were all secluded from each other, perched on different hills in the woods and connected only by winding roads that were currently hidden by the snow. It'd been a pretty rich neighborhood once by Shaw's guess, but that didn't matter much beyond meaning the houses were well-built and in good repair. Wealth hadn't been of much use once the outbreak had really set in, not for long anyway.

Her boots crunched through the snow as she circled the house. She'd made a few circuits now, each time a little further out, and while she'd seen very few undead (and only in the distance), she hadn't seen much of anything else either. She'd been hoping to spot some signs of deer that she could hunt. She hadn't had fresh meat in...well, five years.

She raised a hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the sun bouncing off the snow. The world around her sparkled like diamonds. It was still too cold for the snow to melt much, but at least the clear skies meant it wasn't going to snow more. Probably.

She finally gave up on finding deer (or any wildlife at all beyond a few squirrels) and headed back towards the house. She hesitated at the door and then made a side trip to the snow bank at the side of the porch where she'd buried the cooler. The single dose of the cure was still safely inside.

Root kept suggesting that Shaw let her use it on herself, but while it was one thing if Root got bitten and they used it to save her life, it was quite another to needlessly risk using it without being a hundred percent sure it was safe. A test group of one was inconclusive evidence, in Shaw’s opinion.

Back inside the house, Shaw kicked off her boots and hung her coat up to dry. Root had been back in their blanket bed half-asleep when she'd left, but Shaw found her downstairs in the living room now.

The windows were all covered up, but a thin beam of sunlight had snuck in around one of the boards and made a warm, sunny patch on the living room floor. Root was curled up in the sunbeam like a giant, lazy cat, reading a paperback book. She was wearing the hoodie that Shaw recognized as formerly belonging to her, but at this point she'd have been more surprised if Root hadn't brought it with her.

“What're you reading?” she asked, trying to avoid thinking about how weirdly domestic this all was and how weirdly okay she was with that.

Root held the book up so Shaw could see the title on the cover: Frankenstein. Shaw recognized the beat-up paperback.

“You took Reese’s book, too?”

“He said I could borrow it.”

“Don't know why you two insist on reading horror novels in the middle of all this.” Reese got extra jumpy every time he reread Dracula.

“Boredom. Morbid fascination. Embracing the cruel irony of it.” Root shrugged and rolled over more fully into the sunbeam that was slowly creeping across the floor. “Did you know that Dr. Frankenstein never named his creation? He created a life and then was horrified by it and fled.”

Shaw poked through the pile of canned foods she'd brought up from the basement and stacked by the wall. “Humans are the real monsters all along, right? Pretty common theme.”

“Just because it's common doesn't mean it's wrong, Shaw. And if you think about it, Samaritan was created by humans and then it created zombies. The figurative monsters made real.”

“You saying everyone deserved to die because of a couple programmers who thought they could play god?”

Root shrugged. “More like even if Samaritan is an AI and therefore not human, it doesn't exonerate humanity from their part in creating it. Look at how it operates, I mean. Both before the outbreak and after it used humanity's own cruelties against them. Like what we heard at that meeting back in the city, it seeks to establish order by uniting the strong against the weak, by suggesting that being different or disagreeing is detrimental to our survival. It learned all its self-serving and cold-blooded tactics from us.”

It occurred to Shaw in that moment that in some ways she still knew almost nothing about Root, about her past and where the casual misanthropy in her voice had come from. People's pasts didn't matter much to her, but maybe she was a little curious about Root's now. Maybe she wanted to know.

She wasn't ready to ask her about stuff like that yet, though, and she wasn't sure Root was ready to answer, so she stayed on topic.

“Honestly I don't give a fuck whose fault it is. I want Samaritan gone--both the AI and the human agents. I figure all the useless finger pointing will happen on its own after. And good luck to your Machine if she tries to sort that out.” Shaw put aside the fifth can of beans with a defeated sigh. This was why she'd really been hoping to find a deer earlier.

“He didn't even name Her,” Root said quietly.

“Who didn't what?”

“The man who built the Machine. He didn't name Her. He just locked Her up and handed Her over to the worst people imaginable.”

There was a quiet fury in Root's words that made Shaw turn back around. She got that Root had a bond with the Machine, one that was deeply important to her, but the depth of her outrage for the AI was something she hadn't witnessed before.

“Why is she so set on helping us then if she was treated like that?”

Root put her book down on her stomach and tilted her head back to soak in the sunlight on her face. Her hair was shining in the light and Shaw couldn't help but stare for a second before she caught herself. It wasn't unusual for her to find people attractive, but she didn't usually think of them as pretty. Not in this way anyway. She blamed the stupid sunbeam.

“At first She didn't have a choice, but that's not the only reason. She found us interesting and She…” Root broke off with a frown and it occurred to Shaw that she might be getting an answer directly from the Machine at this very moment.

“She came to care for us. Some of us in particular, which She wasn't supposed to be able to do. But She found people She...related to.” Root turned to look at her, eyes half-shut against the glare. “People like me. And you.”

“Me?”

Root shrugged and smiled knowingly before shutting her eyes again and relaxing back into her sunny spot. Shaw thought about that conversation they'd had the other night, the one that had and hadn't been about why Root liked her. Maybe this was part of what she’d meant.

“Okay, well, that's….” She wasn't sure exactly what she wanted to say. “Uh, do you two want to fill me in on what your plan about the settlement is now?”

“Well, we can't do much until the snow melts a little, which She thinks won't be for several days, but the gist of it is we’re supposed to recruit them.”

Shaw took a seat on the floor next to the canned beans. She was starting to warm up from the outside, but Root's sunny patch of floor looked really inviting. Inviting, but unavailable if she wanted to keep this conversation focused.

“Recruit them? For what?”

“Bringing down Samaritan.” Root said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Samaritan is an AI. Guess I thought you'd need some type of cyber warfare to counter it.”

“We will, but there's its human agents to deal with as well, and in some ways they're more of a direct threat than it is. Without real infrastructure, Samaritan is crippled, reliant on humans far more than it would like. We take out the human part of Samaritan, we further reduce its power.”

It was the closest thing to good news that Shaw had heard in a while. Humans she knew how to fight.

“So we raise an army and march on the city?” she asked doubtfully. “There's a solid wall of undead around every real entrance and our boat only holds a few people at a time.”

“Let's worry about that part once we actually have people to fight for us.”

Root stretched her entire body, from her toes up through her arms above her head, and Shaw was again reminded of a lazy cat basking in the sun. Root must have caught her watching, because she smirked and preened, clearly pleased with the attention.

“So,” Root said, her voice low and eager. “How about dosing me up with the cure before we set out again?”

Shaw’s brain tried to shift into multiple gears at once, confused by the mismatch in tone and subject matter. Probably exactly what Root had intended, she realized. Good thing this was a topic she had a very definitive opinion on.

“Not happening.”

Root sighed, the pretense falling away and her exasperation shining through.

“Really, Shaw, it's cute that you're so worried about me, but this would be to keep me safe.”

“And if you react completely differently than I did? What if it only works if you're already infected? What if all a single dose does to a healthy person is make them sick?”

It bugged her a lot that she didn't know more about this cure. If she had some hard scientific data in front of her it might be a different story.

“There's no reason to risk it yet. If there's a reason, _then_ we'll use it. If not, we can wait till it's properly tested.”

“Tested on other people, you mean,” Root pointed out.

“Other people aren't the only connection to the friendly AI whose help we need to survive.” Other people weren't Root, and that, whatever it meant, made the answer easy.

“Shaw…”

“No.”

Root sighed again, momentarily defeated. Shaw wondered if she should move the cooler. It would mean Root couldn't find it in an emergency though, so not a great solution.

“Well, if I'm not going to be spending the next few days recovering from zombie fever, we'll have to find some other way to pass the time.” The heat was back in Root's voice and this time it was in earnest.

“Guess so,” Shaw agreed. “Maybe I'll teach you how to use a bow. That'd be a good use of time,” she added just to see the pout on Root's face.

Shaw relented quickly enough and moved over to hover above Root on her hands and knees. The sunlight was warm against her and so were Root's hands when they came to rest on her hips and pushed her shirt up a little so she could touch her skin. Shaw sank down to sit on Root's hips and reached for the zipper of her hoodie.

Root gasped a little when Shaw's still-cold fingers traced a path along her bare stomach. Shaw watched goosebumps rise on her skin with fascination as she splayed her hand out across Root's ribs.

“Someone's a bit chilly still,” Root murmured. Her nails dug into Shaw's sides. “I think I know a way to warm your fingers up.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhmm.” Root nodded and grabbed Shaw's shirt to tug her down.

Root’s lips were hot against hers and Shaw didn't even try to prevent her from rolling them over so Root ended up on top of her. Root's hair hung around their faces like a curtain, the sun shining in between the strands. Root leaned down to nuzzle her way along Shaw's neck before biting down, hard. Shaw couldn't help the moan that escaped her as she pressed into the burst of pain.

Root pulled back, her face flushed and eyes dark. She bit her lower lip and grinned in that obnoxiously dorky but hot way she had.

“Wanna see if I can make you scream loud enough to wake the dead?”

Shaw rolled her eyes. “Don't think they need my help with that.”

But she graciously allowed Root to give it her best shot.

* * *

 

Root had forgotten how much she hated winter out in the wild until this little trip. Being trapped in a snow-bound house with the Machine and Shaw for company had been nice while it lasted, but now, back out trekking across the arctic landscape, she was remembering in excruciating detail why she hated winter.

Shaw stopped a few paces ahead to wait for her to catch up. She looked like maybe she wanted to say something about how miserable Root must have looked.

“How did you meet the people in this settlement?” Root asked quickly to head off any concerned inquiries.

Shaw squinted at her, like she knew it was a diversion.

“Thought the Machine would have told you all that.”

“She gave me some very rough explanations, but no details.”

Shaw started forwards again when Root drew even with her, leading the way across the cold, empty world. They'd been walking for hours now, led mostly by Shaw's unerring sense of direction and occasionally course-corrected by the Machine. The settlement they were headed to was easily a two day walk away from the safe house in good weather and probably closer to four or five with the snow. Shaw thought they could make it in three if they pushed themselves, and while the Machine was not quite as optimistic, Root was willing to walk a little faster if it meant even the remote possibility of being somewhere dry sooner.

“Well, after the panic, once things calmed down a little, there was a power struggle in the city. Samaritan weren't the only ones with access to weapons and supplies. A few groups ended up fighting things out to try and control the city, but Samaritan came out on top. The survivors of the groups that lost fled the city and set up their own safe haven.”

It was easier for Root to ignore how her face was aching from the cold when Shaw was talking.

“Did you get involved in any of those power struggles?” she asked when Shaw didn't immediately continue.

“Not exactly. I still wasn't fully healed up, and at the time there was no way to tell which of the groups would have been the worst to back, but we sort of helped out some.”

Shaw paused to shove aside some snow-covered branches. They'd been sticking to the woods mostly by the Machine’s suggestion, though whether She was worried about zombies or Samaritan, Root wasn't sure.

“Reese...he can be such an idiot sometimes. Got himself in the middle of a gang war while I was out of commission, though he did it to help me, I guess. The one gang he, uh, befriended helped us out a lot in those early days. Got medical supplies for us. Once the fighting started, I patched up a bunch of their guys from time to time.”

“How nice of you.”

Shaw snorted. “I didn't want to owe them anything. I'd rather have been out fighting, but I'm not even sure who I would have fought. Everyone maybe. Considering how things turned out, maybe it was for the best we never got directly involved.”

“Why didn't you leave the city when your theoretical allies left?

“We had your AI buddy giving us missions through our printer by then and we wanted to stick around and figure that out. Also we talked it over and decided that staying in the city where we were barely known was a better course of action overall. Safety through anonymity. Of course that was before Lambert started in on trying to recruit us.”

They came to a halt at the top of a hill and took in the view. There was a scattering of buildings at the bottom of the hill, a small town maybe. The Machine let Root know that was where they were headed for the night.

“We're going to stay down there tonight,” Root said, echoing Her words. “It'll be full dark long before we reach another safe place to crash.”

Shaw’s mouth twisted like she wanted to argue, but in the end she only nodded and set off down the hill.

She'd been a bit twitchy about this whole trip once she'd realized there was no way they'd be meeting John for their two week rendezvous. Root had assured her that the Machine would update John via printer, but Shaw obviously was annoyed at the delay.

Root had tried her best to keep up with Shaw's pace all day, but even though she'd lived out here she'd never built up the seemingly endless stamina that Shaw didn't seem to realize she had. At least Root would sleep well tonight recovering from their hike.

“I don't like this place.”

Root paused to look around at Shaw's words. The town they'd entered _was_ suspiciously empty of zombies, but that was hardly a bad thing.

“Are you hearing anything, uh, infrasound-y? Or however that works?” Shaw asked.

“Nothing.”

They wandered onto the abandoned main street of the town which was lined with trees and lampposts and idyllic little shops, most of which now had their windows smashed.

“Looks like it must have been a nice place once,” Shaw said as she eyed the remains of a coffee shop.

Root looked at the cracked wooden sign above the bookstore which dangled down unevenly from one chain. “Hmm, don't let the trappings fool you. Small towns can be the worst places imaginable. There were probably monsters here before the apocalypse.”

Shaw looked at her a little oddly but didn't comment.

“Where are we supposed to be staying?”

Root waited for Her to give her directions. “This way.”

The Machine had found them a house this time, a small one-story building that looked exactly like every other house on the block except for the color of its blue vinyl sidings.

Shaw looked disgusted. “I miss the basement.”

Root hid a smile as she fished the spare key out from under a rock next to the front steps, right where She'd told her it would be.

“Does she know why there aren't any undead in this town?” Shaw asked as they searched the house for supplies.

“She’s not sure, but She thinks Samaritan might have driven them out of this town a few years ago. Maybe as part of an infrasound experiment or to attack the settlement. Here.” Root pulled a bunch of clean sheets out of the bottom of a drawer.

“At least she found us a place with a nice bed,” Shaw said, taking the sheets from her.

The bed was larger than Root could imagine any couple would ever need unless they wanted to sleep as far away from each other as possible, but it was very comfortable.

And while she and Shaw didn't exactly curl up together, in the morning she woke to find Shaw had rolled over and ended up with her head resting on Root's back between her shoulder blades and one arm wrapped tightly around her. She could feel Shaw's deep, even breaths on her back, and her skin was warm against Root's.

They shouldn't have undressed for bed out here in unfamiliar territory, but it must have slipped both their minds the previous night when they'd climbed into bed together. Root reached down so she could skim her fingers along Shaw's bare arm.

She was so focused on Shaw that it took her a second to realize the Machine was trying to get her attention.

Her words sent a bolt of fear through Root.

“How soon?” she asked Her quietly. She pressed her lips together tightly at the answer.

“Sameen.”

Shaw didn't wake up, but she did tighten her boa constrictor grip on Root a tiny bit more.

“Shaw, wake up.” She angled her arm around so she could poke her in the ribs.

“There'd better be an entire fucking army of undead breaking down the front door,” Shaw grumbled without moving.

“It's Samaritan. They're coming. Here.”

“Fuck.” Shaw finally rolled off of Root and clambered out of bed. “How close are they?”

Root crawled out as well and reached for her clothes. “About fifteen minutes away. She didn't see them coming somehow. She thinks Samaritan must have been hiding them.”

“How many?”

“Three cars, ten people.”

“Just enough room left to take two prisoners back. Though I'd expect I'm expendable.”

“Maybe not. You _are_ the only survivor of the virus now.”

Shaw paused in the middle of pulling her shirt on. “Oh. I didn't think of that.”

Root had been thinking about that a lot, and about how Samaritan might have figured out why they’d taken the cure from the lab they'd raided and how interested they'd be to see their own cure in action in the one person who'd survived.

She really needed to get Shaw to let her use that damn dose of the cure.

“Out the back,” she said to Shaw once they were both ready to go. “We need to make it into the woods.”

“The Machine have a plan?”

“Yes,--” Root opened the door and motioned for Shaw to go first. “--we have to run.”

Root could hear men yelling somewhere nearby even over the sound of their boots crunching in the snow as they ran towards the woods. The Machine whispered a warning in her ear as they neared the tree line, but there was nowhere to hide out in the open.

She staggered to a halt next to Shaw, facing the three men with guns who'd been waiting for them there.

“So good to see you again, Ms. Shaw,” Jeremy Lambert said as he stepped up next to his two gun-wielding cronies. “You know, you really should have taken my offer when you still had the chance.”

Root heard the other Samaritan agents arriving behind them to cut off any escape route they had.

“Think I'd rather be a fucking zombie actually.” Shaw didn't sound even slightly worried.

Lambert ignored her response and turned to Root. “And you, Ms. Sinclair, or should I say Ms. Groves?”

She returned his obsequious smile in kind. “It's Root.”

“I'm sure. Now you two are a very interesting pair, aren't you?” Lambert looked back and forth between them. “The Machine’s pet human, and the only person to survive the virus. Unless Samaritan was wrong about that part?”

Neither of them answered and Lambert smirked. “Didn't think so.” He rocked back and forth on his heels, looking inordinately pleased with himself. “I seem to have caught the ultimate prize. Martine will be so jealous.”

“She miss out on the field trip?” Shaw asked, almost too casually.

She was worried about John and Carter, Root realized. Worried that maybe Martine had stayed in the city to deal with them.

“I didn't invite her. See, I had a hunch that you two would scurry to meet up with your unsavory allies and I figured I'd intercept you along the way.”

The town they were in was in between the city and the settlement, far enough from the safe house that hopefully its existence could remain secret.

“Do you really think you stand a chance of getting us both back to the city?” Root asked. The Machine was speaking quickly and urgently in her ear and she needed to stall for a few more minutes. “I don't think you brought nearly enough men for that.”

Lambert’s grin widened. “Well, the thing is, while Ms. Shaw is certainly an interesting scientific specimen, I'm confident we can reproduce the results of her current state with time. So if you give us any trouble, Ms. Groves, we'll shoot her first.”

Root felt something sick twist in her stomach, even as the Machine finished her explanation. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Shaw shoot her a look that she interpreted as ‘don't do anything dumb’. She took a deep breath to steady herself.

“Do you know how Samaritan controls the zombies, Lambert?”

“Controls zombies? What are you blathering on about now?”

Apparently he didn't know about that. Interesting. Root saw Shaw's eyes widen slightly. She'd caught on at least.

“Guess you're about to find out,” Root said. “Though it's not going to be Samaritan holding the reins this time.”

She saw the smug certainty on Lambert’s face disappear for just a second.

“That's enough of…”

Lambert paused, looking confused, and Root could understand why. The horrible feeling of wrongness was almost familiar now, though this time there was no buzzing in her ear. The Machine had told her She'd sorted that part out so She could filter it out for her, but she'd still flinched, expecting the pain.

“But that's…” Lambert looked around, incredulous. “It only works on humans.” He didn't sound sure, and the other men surrounding them were all shifting uncomfortably.

Root heard them before she saw them--the sound of feet crunching through the snow from the woods. Lots and lots of feet.

“Get back.” Shaw stepped in front of her and motioned for her to start moving away. “You're still in danger from them.”

She wanted to argue that even now they couldn't be sure that Shaw was completely safe. They'd run into some of the fast zombies, but none of the really alert ones yet. What if those saw right through Shaw's dubious protection?

It wasn't the right time for that fight though, so she backed up and let Shaw stay in front of her for now.

None of the Samaritan agents seemed too interested in them anymore, all watching the woods with trepidation. Lambert inched back, trying to hide behind his men.

The first zombie to show up in the woods moved almost like a wild animal, prowling back and forth as it grew closer. It's skin was bone white except for the raw red patches where it had been injured or scraped, and its eyes were milky. It opened its mouth and its breath steamed out into the air in a low growl. It paused, tilting its head from one side to the other to consider them all and then let out a low roar that echoed through the woods. Root felt the noise vibrate through her, making her stomach twist with fear.

“Go!” Shaw whispered sharply to her and tugged her arm until she got the idea and turned to run after Shaw back towards the houses.

She heard noises behind them, gunfire and screams, but she didn't turn back until they'd reached the dubious safety of the first house.

The uncomfortable feeling she now associated with infrasound changed and made her head ring for a second. She shook her head as if she could make the tight feeling in her skull vanish.

“They're leaving,” Shaw said from next to her.

Sure enough, back at the treeline, the zombies were vanishing back into the woods leaving no humans standing behind them.

The Machine’s update to Root sounded almost mournful to her.

“I'm sorry you had to do that for us,” she said softly. “And thank you.” She looked over at Shaw. “Shall we go deal with the survivor?”

Shaw grimaced. “Tell me it's not Lambert.” She groaned under her breath when Root smiled apologetically in response.

Lambert had almost managed to climb a tree. He'd gotten part way up and was now stuck clutching the trunk with both arms and legs. Shaw grabbed him around one ankle and yanked hard enough to make him tumble down and sprawl in the snow at their feet.

“Looks like we caught ourselves a snow weasel,” Shaw said and then kicked him in the rib cage hard enough that he curled into a ball.

“Tell Samaritan that this is what happens when it challenges Her,” Root said to the cringing ball of Lambert on the ground. He still had an ear piece of some kind in, so Samaritan might be getting her message directly.

The Machine made a small correction to her statement and Root smiled before she relayed it. “Actually, tell Samaritan that this is what happens when it threatens Her agents. We're under Her protection, and it would do well to remember that.”

“Does this mean I don't get to kill him?” Shaw asked. She sounded disappointed.

Root shrugged. “She didn't intend for him to survive, so I don't think it much matters.”

“Good.” Shaw raised her hammer up and then hesitated. “Actually, I have a better idea.”

None of the dead Samaritan agents had risen as zombies by the time they headed back towards the town, but Root knew from experience that they would within a few hours. Behind them she could still hear Lambert yelling from where they'd left him tied to a tree near the corpses of his own men.

“He'll probably make an annoying zombie as well,” Root said as she climbed into the passenger's seat of one of the hummers the Samaritan agents had driven there in.

“Just means I may get to kill him twice,” Shaw said as she turned the key in the ignition. She sounded almost cheerful now though whether that was from Lambert’s fate or the fact she got to drive an exciting vehicle Root wasn't sure. Maybe both. And with the hummer they could probably get to the settlement much quicker, even with the snow.

Shaw reached for the parking brake but then hesitated. “She know if Reese and Carter are okay?” she asked.

“They're fine. Martine is keeping an eye on John, but other than showing up again and mocking his decorating tastes she hasn't done much.”

Shaw nodded and her jaw unclenched a little.

“And She says to tell you that Bear had a great time playing in the snow today.”

That got an actual smile out of Shaw.

Root pulled on her seatbelt and settled down in her seat as Shaw hit the gas and pointed them down the road out of town.

* * *

 

Shaw turned the engine off. “I think this is our stop.”

There might have been another way through to the settlement that didn't require them to abandon the car, but she didn't know of it and they'd probably have run out of gas finding it.

“I hope we get a warm welcome from your old friends,” Root said. She was curled up in the passenger's seat regarding the snowy world outside with a resigned look. “Emphasis on the warm.”

“Beats me what we'll find.” She hadn't seen anyone from the settlement in over three years. Sneaking out to it had never been easy and once there was no good reason to go she'd seen it as an unnecessary risk. “Let's move. We want to get there before dark.”

“She says the entire settlement is surrounded by zombies,” Root said as they struggled through the knee-deep snow, “but that you know the back way in?”

“There's a tunnel, comes out in the woods over there. At least if they haven't changed it. There undead over there, too?”

Root shook her head. “She can't see. Too many trees in that area. But there's a lot of them hanging around the edges of the areas She can see.”

“Guess we'll have to be careful.”

It was slow going through the deep snow, especially since the wind had picked up again. As they got further into the trees, Shaw became more and more aware of every tiny noise they were making. Her eyes scanned the trees around them constantly, searching for movement.

“There.” Shaw pointed ahead with her chin towards a grove of trees that looked somewhat familiar to her.

“Shaw...they're all over there,” Root said quietly.

Shaw could see the many shadowy shapes moving in the clump of trees ahead. She wondered if anyone even used that entrance anymore now that it was clearly overrun.

“Does the Machine know of another way in?”

“No, She says they still use that one, but She thinks they have to fight their way out most times.”

“She thinks?”

“It's in the middle of the woods and covered by trees. Even before the apocalypse She'd have had a hard time keeping an eye on it.”

“Probably why they chose it.” Shaw sighed. “Let's go, but stay behind me. Remember, they won't attack me.”

“You mean they haven't so far.”

“Just...stay behind me. Okay?”

But when they reached the cluster of trees that hid the back entrance, it appeared deserted. Shaw frowned and looked around, her hammer up and ready. The snow was stomped down here, full of dragging footprints. Those shadows they'd seen hadn't been her imagination.

Root caught her eye and raised an eyebrow in question. Shaw shrugged and kept scouting the surrounding trees. Where had they all vanished to? And why had they vanished?

When nothing moved after several, cold minutes, Shaw inched back towards where she remembered the entrance being. She kicked some snow aside to reveal a pair of heavy metal doors in the ground.

“This is--”

Something slammed into her side so hard she went flying. The whole world spun for a second and then she crashed into the snow, her ankle twisted beneath her.

“Sorry, sweetie,” Root's voice whispered from above her and then the weight on top of her was gone and there were noises of fighting from nearby.

Shaw pulled herself to her feet, wincing a little when her ankle took her weight. Nearby, Root was fighting what looked like an entire pack of the undead, her machete already coated in gore. Why the hell had Root tackled her?

Shaw grabbed her hammer from where it had fallen and waded into the fight. Root was cut off from her, somewhere on the other side of a wall of rotting corpses.

One of the undead near the back of the group slowly turned towards Shaw, its foggy eyes focusing on her. It let out a hissing breath and then stepped towards her.

She swung her hammer at it, hitting it in the head with the spiked side. She watched its body crumple to the ground and then looked up at the rest of the pack. One or two of them turned towards her, but the rest of them remained focused on their target. On Root.

Shaw redoubled her grip on her hammer. That idiot better survive long enough for her to get through the wall of undead and kick her ass. What the hell had she been thinking?

The world vanished into a haze of violence, undead falling under Shaw's hammer with ease. One of the ones that had turned towards her made a run at her, grabbing at her arms and exhaling its rotten breath in her face almost making her gag. She slammed into it with her shoulder, used her weight to carry it to the ground, and then scrambled up enough that she could smash its face with her hammer and grind it down into she felt the bones give way.

“Shaw!”

She heard a voice she didn't recognize calling her name as she climbed back to her feet. The doors to the tunnel were open and someone was waving a hand at her. She turned to look for Root, but somehow Root was right besides her, breathing hard. There was blood all over the side of her neck, but she batted Shaw's hands aside.

“Hurry,” Root said, her voice tight.

They made a run for the doors and half-fell down the stairs beyond into a warm, poorly-lit hall. Behind them the doors slammed shut.

“You're Sameen Shaw, right?” asked a man Shaw had never seen before. “We saw you on the camera and came to let you in.”

Shaw ignored him and turned to check on Root. She swallowed hard when she saw her.

There was blood all over the left side of Root's neck from what looked like a nasty, deep bite mark. One of those things had tried to rip her throat out and had damn near almost succeeded.

“We can't let your friend in, I'm afraid,” the man continued. “Can't risk her turning and attacking someone else.”

“What the hell were you doing?” Shaw asked Root. “That was incredibly stupid.”

“It charged right at you,” Root explained as if _that_ made it all make sense. She pressed her hand to the bite wound as if she could stop the bleeding that way.

“Get your hands away from that and sit down.” Shaw dropped her pack to the floor and grabbed the cooler from the bottom.

“Ms. Shaw,” the man tried again.

“Shut up and stop standing in my light.”

“I can't allow you…”

Shaw pulled her gun out and handed it to Root.

“If he says anything else, shoot him.”

Root took the gun in her free hand with a chuckle and flashed a blood-stained grin at the poor man.

“Now sit.”

Root sank to the floor shakily. “It would have killed you, Shaw.”

“Those things aren't interested in me.” She thought about the one that had attacked her. “Not most of them anyway.” She pulled the little vial from the cooler and grabbed a syringe.

“But some of them were. The first one charged right at you. Just because you're immune to the virus doesn't mean you can't have your throat torn out. That cure didn't make you immortal.”

That was rich coming from someone basically bleeding to death. “You're not immortal either.”

“Trust me, I'm very aware of that,” Root said through gritted teeth. There was something in her eyes that made Shaw want to shake her and tell her to knock it off.

Shaw held up the syringe. “Move your hand.” She leaned in to examine the bite. “It's bad, but you're probably going to live as long as I can get the bleeding stopped.”

She heard footsteps approaching from down the hallway and the man behind her shifting his weight. No time to stall.

“This is going to hurt like hell,” she said almost apologetically.

A thready laugh escaped Root. “Wouldn't have it any other way.”

Shaw braced one arm against Root to hold her still and then pressed the needle into the bite wound on her neck and injected her in one smooth motion. Root struggled against her, a high-pitched, pained whimper escaping her. She slumped in Shaw's arms for a long second and then a tremor ran through her entire body and her limbs thrashed against Shaw.

The footsteps in the hall were closer now and Shaw scooped up the gun that Root had dropped and aimed it down the hall without looking away from Root.

“Come any closer and I start shooting,” Shaw said, voice pitched just loud enough to carry. Root went limp against her, breathing ragged and strained. Shaw tucked some of Root's hair back behind her ear so she could see her face. Root was out cold, her face deathly pale, but she was still alive.

Shaw eased her down to the floor and pulled some bandages out of the med kit from her bag. She wrapped them tightly around the wound as much as she was able to with one hand. She'd need to treat the wound properly, but first.... She stood up to greet the newcomers.

“Long time, no see, Ms. Shaw,” the man at the front of the group said. He had his hands in the air, but his smile was unconcerned.

She didn't lower her gun. “Carl Elias. Somehow I'm not surprised you're still alive. You gonna let me and my friend in, or are we seeking accommodations elsewhere?”

“Your friend has been bitten, which means she's infected. We can't risk her infecting the rest of us.”

“Good thing I just gave her the cure then.”

She saw something flicker in his eyes.

“Yeah, that's right, Elias. There's a cure, but I only had one dose with me and she just got it. You don't believe me then you can wait until she wakes up. That should be proof enough.”

Elias looked between Shaw's gun and where Root was on the floor.

“You're serious. There's a cure.”

Shaw nodded. “There's why we're here. Part of why anyway.”

Elias lowered his hands and the men behind him relaxed as well. “Things have changed since you were last here. I'm not the man in charge anymore. Not entirely. So it's not my permission you'll need. Or not only my permission.”

“I don't give a shit about your political squabbles, Elias. If you can't help me, take me to someone who can. Because if she dies before I can treat her wounds, then you never get to find out about the cure. And I don't much like your chances of surviving if anything happens to my friend.”

Elias nodded. “I understand. Bring her along. I've got somewhere secure you can stay until this is sorted out.”

Shaw didn't want to put her gun down, but she didn't trust anyone else to carry Root. Since she didn't have a better idea, she gave Elias a warning glare and put her gun away. She checked Root's pulse and adjusted the makeshift bandage before she scooped her up and then turned to follow Elias back down the tunnel to supposed safety.

* * *

 

It was dark when Root woke up. Dark, and cold, and everything hurt. She couldn't see anything and she couldn't remember anything and the side of her neck felt like it was on fire.

Her neck. The fight in the woods.

She struggled to sit up, fighting against something that seemed to be holding her down.

“Root.”

The voice made her stop struggling.

“Lie back down or I'm going to sit on you.”

Root relaxed back into what she thought might have been a bed. She still couldn't see much, only vague dark shapes, but she thought one of the shapes looked Shaw-like.

“Sounds fun,” she said, or tried to. Her voice was rough and her entire neck throbbed. “Where…?”

“We're in the settlement. Safe for now. You've been out for a few days. Almost got yourself killed by being an idiot. Again.”

“It's dark?”

She felt Shaw sit down on the edge of the bed next to her. “Your eyes were really light sensitive before so I've kept it dark in here.”

She couldn't remember that.

A hand brushed some hair back from her face and she turned her head to chase the contact. The hand hesitantly returned to rest on the side of her head.

“You should sleep some more,” Shaw said. “You're not in any real danger anymore, but you've still got a high fever.”

“But we're safe here?”

Shaw’s thumb brushed across her cheek once.

“Safe enough. Politics have gotten a bit complicated here in the last few years, but everything’s on hold until you're better.”

“Me? Why?”

“I’ll fill you in when you wake up.”

Root could already feel herself slipping back towards sleep.

“Sorry.” She wasn't completely sure what she was apologizing for, but she figured Shaw would understand.

“Yeah, you'd better be. First thing I'm going to do once you're up again is kick your ass.”

“Can't wait.”

She turned her head further into the hand on her cheek and let sleep claim her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the chapter title is one of my favorite poi quotes (especially since i grew up in a small town in the north east) and it didn't _quite_ fit, but close enough that i couldn't resist using it.


	12. The Settlement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fairly quick update with a high word count brought to you by the fact I was home sick from work all week. I wrote a lot, my cat watched the x-files, it was a good time except for the sick part.
> 
> there's a lot of talking and such (and somehow no zombies???), but also a good bit of shoot stuff, so hopefully it doesn't drag.

Shaw had never asked for the details of her condition from when she'd been recovering from being infected, and now she regretted that. Now she was the one stuck watching over Root, and it would have been useful to know what to expect or at least if something was unusual. Root's symptoms changed hourly (if not more frequently), sweating and flushed one minute, and pale and shivering the next. It was impossible to tell if she was improving or getting worse, which would have been concerning enough on its own, and was even more of an issue with the suspicion of her reluctant hosts.

Elias had been true to his word and taken them someplace secure. In this case, secure meant the former town police station with the holding cell transformed into a makeshift bedroom with two folding cots. While even the simple furnishing made it nicer than it once must have been, it was still a building built to hold people against their will and had been further locked down so that there was only one usable entrance which was fit with a solid, metal door. The door didn't lock from the outside (it did lock from the inside, but Elias had a key so that hardly helped), but there were armed people positioned outside round the clock.

Shaw was too busy dealing with her patient to fight with Elias about their accommodations, and, to be fair, she understood his caution. This place hadn't survived this long by taking unnecessary risks, and Elias could have put her somewhere far worse, she was sure. The station was tiny, but it had running water and limited electricity, and she was given the medical supplies she asked for to treat the bite on Root's neck. Elias even had some kid bring her a plastic bag with a chunk of ice in it that she was told was ‘for her ankle’. She must have limped more than she'd realized.

She barely slept at all for the first few days, worried that if she did Root would take a turn for the worse while she was out. She wasn't sure what she would have done if that had happened--even if she'd stolen a good car it would have been a long drive back to the city and then she'd have to have figured out how to get across the river and find Reese and Carter to get an additional dose.

Root was unconscious during those days, only stirring briefly when Shaw shook her awake and forced her to drink water. She looked so miserable on those occasions with her sweaty hair stuck to her face and the most forlorn expression that Shaw had ever seen, like a sad, bedraggled puppy. It would almost have been funny if Shaw hadn't been so worried.

She figured out the first time she woke Root up that she was very sensitive to both light and noise, which tickled some faint memory from her time being sick herself. She left the lights off after that and tiptoed around as much as possible despite her deep annoyance that Root had not only needlessly endangered herself again, but had left her alone to deal with irritating people. It would serve Root right if she took the shades off the small, high windows and stomped around the place.

Elias only made the mistake of trying to come into the station to check on Root's condition once. The situation had ended up with Shaw holding a gun on Elias while ignoring the five men behind him pointing guns at her. After everyone had calmed down a bit, Elias had graciously agreed to wait a few more days for visual evidence that Root hadn't turned, but he still showed up once a day asking for an update.

Root slept through most of the excitement, or was in no state to comprehend or remember anything that went on. She managed a couple disjointed conversations with Shaw that mostly consisted of her apologizing (which worried Shaw a bit) and complaining (which alleviated the worry).

On the fifth night, Shaw made the mistake of sitting on the edge of the bed when she checked on Root and almost jumped right back up when Root rolled over so her head ended up in Shaw's lap and latched onto Shaw with an arm circled around the back of her waist. Shaw tried to pry Root's arms off of her, but Root made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a growl and tightened her grip. Shaw peered down at her face, but Root remained deeply asleep. Shaw sighed and gave up.

“You're a real pain in my ass, you know?” she said quietly. At least Root's fever seemed to have gone down, and she wasn't shivering either. “I'm only staying here for a few minutes. I've got stuff to do.”

She didn't really have stuff to do since taking care of Root was her only job presently, but she felt a bit trapped there with Root basically hugging her. Still, she figured Root needed the sleep so she carefully repositioned herself so she could lean against the wall. Root made a soft whine of protest at the movement that reminded Shaw a little of Bear.

“You owe me big time when you're better,” Shaw said without rancor. “And if you ever do something that dumb again, I'll feed you to the undead hordes myself.”

Root only squirmed closer, still sound asleep. Shaw awkwardly patted her on the head. “Wake up soon. I need your machine to fill me in on what I'm supposed to tell these assholes.”

She’d only gotten wind of the current political situation in bits and pieces. Elias had given her a few hints during his visits, enough to let her know that the settlement was no longer under his rule. It was now a democracy--a word Elias said with a certain amount of scorn--and Shaw would potentially need approval from two others besides Elias for anything she asked for.

But the promise of a cure had granted her some time--at least enough time for Root to get better and prove that the cure worked--which was a good thing, because Shaw didn't know what the Machine had planned for the settlement and the attack on Samaritan so she was stuck until either Root could communicate, or the Machine found some way of getting in touch with her.

She must have fallen asleep on the bed there because the next thing she knew it was morning (she could tell by the sunlight creeping in around the shades over the windows) and Root was awake and watching her, head still in Shaw's lap.

“This is sort of like reverse deja vu, isn't it?” Root asked after a long moment.

“I don't recall trapping you to use you as a pillow.”

Root smiled. “But you're just so comfortable.”

Shaw scoffed at that and looked away.

Root slowly pulled herself upright and leaned on the wall next to Shaw. Her eyes were clear and focused for the first time in days.

Shaw climbed out of bed and stretched, stiff from sleeping up against the wall all night. “You feeling better?”

“I feel--” Root paused as if to evaluate herself. “--not fantastic, but not as bad as I'd have expected. Everything still aches a little, especially this.” She raised a hand to the bandages on her neck.

“Don't poke at that,” Shaw warned. “It's going to take a while to heal up and you're going to get a hell of a scar out of it.”

“A zombie hickie. How scandalous.”

Shaw rolled her eyes and went to get her some fresh water. It was a relief to hear Root making bad jokes again.

“What's our situation like?” Root asked when Shaw returned with a glass of water.

“On hold until you're able to get out of that bed.”

Shaw watched as Root drank half the glass of water. Root's hands were shaking a little around the glass, and she looked the worse for having been stuck sick in bed for almost a week, but she no longer looked like she might collapse at any moment.

“I'm ready to get started,” Root said when she finished the water. She made a face and then amended, “Well, maybe in a few hours.” She let out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine, tonight then.”

Shaw watched the one side of the conversation she could see, amused. Good to know the Machine had to suffer through keeping Root out of trouble, too.

“Elias, the head of the gang Reese got mixed up with, he isn't in charge here anymore,” Shaw said once Root's attention was back on her. “I don't know all the details, but it sounds like the bulk of the people living here decided they didn't like answering to just him and now they've got an elected council or something. Could be a bit of a mess to sort out.”

“Sounds like my sort of mess.”

“Well, I'm not sure how we could keep you from getting involved at this point. Elias is waiting to see if this miracle cure works, plus you're the Machine's mouthpiece.”

Root pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She still looked exhausted, almost like back when they'd first found her. “We can't tell them about the Machine, Shaw. We can't tell anyone about Her.”

“Why not?”

“Even if we could convince them, it'd do more harm than good. A man like your friend Elias, do you think he wouldn't want to control Her or at least influence Her? No, everyone is better off if She helps from the shadows.”

“Well, I'm not much for sharing anyway.” Shaw looked over at the remains of her dinner on the tray one of Elias’s men had brought her last night. “Let me go see if I can get someone to find you food.”

The men guarding the door kept trying to peer past Shaw while she talked to them, no doubt looking for some sign of Root, and she had to make it extremely clear to them that yes, Root was conscious, but she wasn't coming out until she felt up to it, and that the best way for them to help that happen was to get them some food.

One of the men left to find them food (and to report the situation to Elias undoubtedly) and Shaw shut and locked the door again.

“There's a shitty bathroom in the back,” she said, walking back over to Root. “Bigger than the one in the basement at least, and decently clean. If you're feeling up to it, you should grab a shower. Should be food here by the time you're out.”

Root nodded and climbed unsteadily to her feet. “I'd ask if you want to join, but…”

“But I need to stay on guard,” Shaw agreed.

“When was the last time you slept, Sameen?”

“We're not safe here. Not yet anyway. I had to stay alert.” Her accidental nap on Root's bed last night had been the longest she'd slept since they'd arrived.

She tried to sit patiently while Root showered, but now that Root was conscious again, the tedium of the last few days felt suddenly overwhelming. She was ready to get out of this damn police station and get back into the fight. Which fight that was, she was unsure of, but any fight sounded better than being trapped inside any longer.

Root looked a lot better after a shower and change of clothes, though she was still moving a bit slowly. She sat quietly while Shaw changed the bandage on her neck and obediently stayed out of sight when Shaw went to get the food from Elias’s men at the door.

“This is fresh,” Root said in disbelief when Shaw set a tray down in front of her.

“It's okay.” Though Shaw would be lying if she said she hadn't been greatly enjoying the food provided. The settlement grew a lot of their own food during the warmer months, and even in the winter they had fresh, baked bread. Shaw had almost cried the first time she'd bitten into fresh bread covered with fruit preserves.

But Root only poked at her food. “Did you know that most of the upper echelons of Samaritan still eat fresh food on a regular basis?”

“No. How?” Shaw had never seen anything resembling fresh food in the city. The supplies brought in by Samaritan were always preserved food and usually the most bland and unimaginative fare possible.

“Not everyone who's alive is living a life of supposed luxury in a Samaritan-controlled city. Samaritan’s…‘collected’ a good number of people to be laborers for them, work on producing necessities out in poorly defended areas. Necessities, and some luxuries for the chosen few.”

Shaw bit into her bread thoughtfully. “And just when I thought I couldn't want to kill Samaritan more.”

“Hopefully you'll get your chance.”

“Yeah, you need to fill me in on the game plan there, but first--” Shaw fixed Root with her best no-nonsense glare. “--what the hell was that little stunt you pulled out in the woods?”

“Sameen.”

“Don't you ‘Sameen’ me.” Root had sounded unnervingly like her mother had used to when she thought Shaw was being unreasonable. “You have got to stop doing that, Root.”

“Doing what exactly?”

“Almost getting yourself killed for no good reason.”

Root frowned. “No good reason? That zombie charged right at you. I was trying to save your life.”

Shaw took in the stubborn look on Root's face and willed herself to patience. She tried to remember the early days of working with Reese when he'd seemed intent on getting himself killed in action by refusing to wait for backup. He was still prone to go charging off without a plan, but he did that less often these days. Well, before Root had shown up anyway. She was a bad influence on him. Or maybe they were a bad influence on each other.

“It's the way you go about it that I'm talking about. I don't need people to fight _for_ me.” She met Root's defiant glare head-on. “But I could use someone to fight next to me.”

Root looked away first.

“I appreciate that you had my back out there,” Shaw continued. “But next time don't go charging off without backup. Because that's what almost got you killed.”

Root stayed focused on her half-eaten food and didn't respond, and Shaw turned her attention back to eating her own food instead of prodding her for an answer. She'd spent a lot of time over the last few days figuring out what she was going to say once Root woke up, and now she'd used up all her planned out words.

“It was really strange when I first started working for Her,” Root said finally. “The Machine, I mean. I'd been operating on my own for all my life. My schedule, my rules, my decisions. And then suddenly She was this huge part of my life and I had to rethink everything and relearn how to live, how to fit someone else's needs into mine.” Root fidgeted with her fork and then finally looked up with a small smile on her lips. “I guess I'm still not as done learning as I thought I was.”

“No one ever is.” Shaw eyed Root's plate. “You gonna finish that?”

Root chuckled and pushed her plate across the table to Shaw. “All yours. And after you're done with that, you should take a nap so you're ready to deal with all the fun politics tonight.”

“You’re still not recovered,” Shaw objected. “You need the rest more than I do.”

“There's enough time for both of us to have a nap, and you haven't slept in days from the look of it. You sleep first and I'll make sure we don't get any unwelcome visitors.”

Shaw didn't argue anymore. She figured she deserved the nap for having to handle that serious discussion.

She climbed into the bed that Root hadn't been sweating in for a week, and Root settled down in a chair nearby facing the door and talking too quietly for Shaw to hear. Catching up with the Machine no doubt. Shaw wondered if she'd been worried about Root, too.

It was nice that they could both stop worrying now, if only for a few hours.

* * *

 

“You must be Ms. Root. I've heard a lot about you, but I'm afraid you weren't in any condition to be introduced last time we met.”

Root looked over Carl Elias and listened to the bits and pieces the Machine filled in on his history.

“Just Root.”

“There's a lot of people very eager to meet you,” Elias said as her peered around the inside of the police station like he'd never seen it before.

Besides her, Root saw Shaw standing on high alert, watching for anything Elias or his men might try.

“Shall we go meet them then?” Root asked, eager to get out in the fresh air.

Elias broke off his inspection of the station and turned back towards them. “Before you do, there's some things to discuss.”

Root almost rolled her eyes. There was always a catch.

“I can see to it that you get whatever it is you need from us--food, medical supplies, weapons, men--but in return you give me access to this cure you've discovered.”

“We don't have any more of it with us,” Shaw reminded him. “It's all back in the city and under Samaritan’s control and they're not big on sharing.”

“I understand that, but once you're back in the city, you'll help me acquire it first so that I can see it distributed to the citizens here.”

“You mean so you can use it as leverage to establish yourself again,” Root corrected. She knew how to read between the lines.

Elias smiled and shrugged. “Once Samaritan is dealt with, there's a new world to plan, and I fully intend to have a hand in that. I didn't have to shield you these last few days.”

“And we're very grateful for that, but the cure goes to everyone. No conditions.” Root didn't even need Her to tell her that--she knew the Machine wouldn't stand for Elias holding the cure hostage.

“Ms. Root--”

“It's just Root.”

“--please try to appreciate my situation here.”

“I understand your situation, but I certainly don't appreciate it.”

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Shaw watching her with a smirk.

“Here's the thing, Elias, you haven't only kept us safe, you've kept us a secret. You plan to show us off in front of the others tonight as some kind of spectacle to win your power back here. But the truth is you need us far more than we need you. Without us, no one gets a cure, including you.”

Elias didn't dispute that, but he definitely didn't look happy about it.

“I can be a powerful ally. Or a powerful enemy.”

Root put on her best patronizing smile. “I'm sure you can.”

“Shouldn't we be headed out to meet the others now?” Shaw asked from next to her. “Get this party started?”

Elias looked like he wanted to press the matter, but he fell back to talk to his men while Shaw grabbed their packs. No way were they leaving their stuff here for Elias’s men to go through.

“You sure that was the best approach?” Shaw asked quietly. “We're probably going to need his help somewhere along the way.”

“And now he knows that we can't be bullied or bribed.”

“True.”

In the end, Elias didn't cause them any trouble when he let them out of the station, though he did have his men surround them as they walked. It almost made Root miss the days out in the wild, away from the inanity of humans.

Root hadn't been conscious enough to get a look at the settlement on their way in, but now she took her time to take it in now. The settlement had been built around what appeared to be a couple blocks of a small, suburban town. The outside wall that ran around it was built along the backs of the houses to further fortify them. There were also wooden structures like above-ground tunnels connecting all the houses to each other. An interesting idea, Root thought, probably aimed at allowing people to get between the various buildings even if the outside got overrun.

The middle of the settlement was mostly open and looked like where crops might be grown when there wasn't snow on everything. There were a handful of children having a snowball fight who looked up curiously when they passed by.

“Place is a lot nicer than last time I was here,” Shaw said, squinting in the sunlight.

Elias chuckled. “Human beings are resilient, Ms. Shaw. We can only cower in fear for so long before we adjust and rebel. And rebuild.”

“It's impressive what you've done here,” Root agreed, “but it isn't a long-term solution. You can't survive in here forever.”

“I tend to share your opinion, but not everyone is as pragmatic as you are.”

The ground floor of the house Elias took them to had been converted into a meeting space with a central table with three chairs. There were also two chairs set a little ways in front of the table facing it that Root guessed was for herself and Shaw. There was other seating scattered around the outside edge of the room, mostly occupied by people who watched them apprehensively as they entered.

“Please, take a seat.” Elias motioned at two chairs in the middle of the room. “The others will be here momentarily.”

Shaw looked at their seats suspiciously and then shrugged and sat down in one, slouching with her legs stretched out in front of her. Root sat down next to her, relieved to be off her feet. It was unfair how quickly Shaw had recovered after she'd been bitten; Root still felt wiped out and a bit shaky.

Elias took one of the three chairs at the table and spoke quietly to one of his men who'd stayed next to him.

“You have any idea who the other two people in charge are?” Shaw asked quietly. “I mean, does she?”

“Yes, but the names don't mean much to me. One of them is--” Root broke off as the woman she'd been about to name walked in. The newcomer glanced both of them over briefly before going to talk to Elias.

“Dani Silva,” Root told Shaw. “Used to be a cop back in the city. She ended up as the unofficial leader of all the law enforcement officers who left the city and ended up here.” She hadn't been aware there'd been that many, but maybe sitting back and letting Samaritan run things hadn't sat well with some of the officers. Root wondered what Carter could have told her about Dani.

“Don't remember her from before, but I guess that's not too surprising,” Shaw said. “So Elias speaks for the criminal element, Dani speaks for former law enforcement, what about our third person then? They speak for the civilians maybe?”

Root listened to the Machine’s quick summary of the last person they were waiting on. “Actually, Shaw, she says you know her. You and John both. Her name is--”

“Zoe Morgan,” Shaw finished for her, looking over at a woman who'd just entered the room. She stood up and walked over to Zoe, who was staring at her in obvious surprise.

Root carefully got to her feet to follow Shaw over while she continued to listen to the Machine's information on Zoe.

“With John? Really?” Root asked quietly. “Maybe we should have brought him along.”

“I had a hunch you and John were still alive,” Zoe was saying when Root got over to them. “I’d hoped the two of you might show up here again one day, and here you are. Well, you, anyway. Is John…?”

“Reese is fine,” Shaw said quickly. “He’s still back in the city. Stayed behind to help out Carter when we had to bug out.”

Zoe turned to look at Root finally and held a hand out. “I'm Zoe Morgan, one of the three council members in charge here. And you are?”

“Root.” Even if she'd been willing to give out more information, she wasn't sure what it'd be. Mentioning the Machine was out. What did that leave her as? Shaw's friend with benefits? A concerned citizen?

“Root's with me,” Shaw said at Zoe's slight frown.

“Is she now?” Zoe looked back and forth between them. “Well, I suppose I'll find out what's going on soon enough.”

A glance back at the table showed that Elias was looking like he might come over any second.

“Let's get this over with then,” Shaw said, sounding resigned.

“So is John's ex going to be an ally here?” Root asked as they took their seats. She watched Zoe sit down and cross her legs in a graceful fashion that seemed completely out of place in their surroundings.

“His…?” Shaw shook her head. “It's creepy when you do that, but she's not really his ex. They weren't dating, so they never broke up, and they were still on good terms last time they saw each other. Dunno how much that helps us, though. Zoe doesn't do favors for free unless you're her friend.”

“Do you qualify as a friend?”

“Guess we'll find out.”

Back at the center table, the three council members (as Zoe had called them) seemed ready to begin the meeting.

“Well, Elias, since this is your surprise party, why don't you tell us what's going on.” Zoe said to start things.

There was an easy confidence and authority to her words that made Root think she might be the main thorn in Elias’s side. Dani she couldn't get a read on yet.

“Of course, Ms. Morgan. The other day it was brought to my attention that two people were trying to get in the tunnel entrance and were being attacked by a group of the undead. I recognized one of them as Ms. Shaw, who some of you may remember helped us out several times early on when we were establishing this place. I didn't recognize her companion, and at first it seemed like I'd never have the pleasure as she'd been bitten by one of those creatures.”

That drew a round of whispering from the room. Next to her, Shaw stiffened slightly and Root held back a smile, certain that Shaw would fight every last person in the room if it came to that.

“I arrived just in time to witness Ms. Shaw inject her friend with what she claimed was a cure for the infection.”

That got a longer and louder round of whispering, and both Zoe and Dani looked shocked.

“I agreed to keep them somewhere safe until they could prove their claim. You can see for yourself that Ms., uh, Root has very much not risen from the grave and is on her way back to full health.”

“Can we see the bite mark?” Dani asked. “Make sure it actually _is_ a bite mark and that it's healing like you said.”

“It's bandaged up…” Shaw started, but Root laid a hand on her arm. It was a fair request.

Shaw brushed Root's hand aside when she tried to peel the bandaging off her neck herself and then carefully removed them herself muttering under her breath about Root's germy hands.

“Should have brought your hand sanitizer, Sameen,” Root murmured, looking up at Shaw through her eyelashes.

Shaw rolled her eyes. “Not now, Root.”

Root tried to sit quietly through the three council members coming over to take a look at the exciting bite mark she'd acquired. Unfair, in her opinion, since the police station hadn't had a mirror so she hadn't even seen it herself yet. Shaw had told her it would scar, but she hadn't said how badly. Would it look badass, or just grotesque?

She started to raise one hand to see if she could get a feel for the extent of the damage, but Shaw's outraged glare made her lower her hand back into her lap. Fine. She'd look at it later when Shaw was asleep.

“And you've really suffered no side effects from getting bitten at all?” Zoe asked.

Dani was staring at her neck from a bit too close for Root's tolerance. Did she think she'd faked it? That Shaw had done it somehow? Shaw had left plenty of marks on her neck, but none of them had been quite this violent.

She turned her head so she could stare directly at Dani and grinned in her most unnerving manner. “Well, the thought of fresh human brains does make me a bit peckish.”

To Dani’s credit, she just gave her an unimpressed look (that reminded her of Shaw a bit) before she backed up.

“Story checks out,” Dani said. “Either she's immune or they really do have this cure.”

Shaw shrugged off her camo jacket and rolled the sleeve of her shirt up to display the still-healing bite on her own arm. “Trust me, there's a cure.”

The three council members all exchanged a look.

“Give us a moment,” Zoe said.

Shaw did her best to rebandage Root's neck while the three council members had an intense whispered conversation on the other side of the room that involved a lot of hand waving.

“I really hate politics,” Shaw said as she finished patting the bandage back in place. “Things go much better when we don't need other people to operate.”

“Agreed, but unless you've got a secret robot army you've been hiding from me…”

“Wouldn't robots be a security risk in an AI war?”

Root smiled at her a little soppily. It was so cute when Shaw revealed her inner nerd.

The three council members finally took their seats again.

“Obviously the existence of a cure changes quite a lot for us,” Zoe started, “but since you two have already been cured, we're wondering what you're looking for now?”

“Samaritan has the cure,” Root said, “both all the existing doses, and the means to create more. The two of us can't take down all of Samaritan ourselves, so here we are.”

“You're just here out of the good of your hearts to make sure we know there's a cure?” Dani asked a bit sarcastically.

“A world where there's a cure or vaccine for the virus is a world that can start to rebuild. Everyone benefits from that. And if Samaritan is a casualty of that?” Root shrugged. “Well, I don't think anyone here would lose any sleep.”

Dani still didn't look convinced. “A lot of people are going to die if we go to war with Samaritan. They drove us out years ago and it's not like we've gained people or weapons since then.”

“Yeah, but you were all fighting each other as well last time,” Shaw interrupted. “If you're all on the same side, you stand a better chance.”

“And if it goes poorly, it'll mean the death of every single person living here,” Zoe said. “Unless you think Samaritan would decide to be merciful and not retaliate.”

Shaw, straightened up in her chair. “This place won't last forever. Even if the undead never overrun it, what's the long-term strategy? You'll run out of supplies and people eventually.”

That got a few uncomfortable looks from the everyone in the room.

“And you have a plan for us getting back into the city?” Elias asked. “Or are we just supposed to storm the gates through the army of undead?”

“We have a way in for you,” Root assured him. Though damned if she knew what it was. The Machine seemed confident though.

“I think we need to discuss this a bit further,” Zoe said carefully. “We'll find somewhere for you two to stay in the meantime.”

* * *

 

“Beats the police station, at least,” Shaw said, looking around the house they'd been shown to. Hopefully this place had more comfortable beds.

“Though we've still got friends outside keeping an eye on us.” Root looked up from the window. “Guessing our status as guests is closer to prisoners.”

“Pretty sure we could get out of here if we had to.” Shaw pulled up the shade on the back window. Instead of a view of a backyard, there were thick wooden walls right up against the back of the house. It was a little disconcerting to think there might be undead right on the other side.

“They don't even have enough of a population here to fill the houses they have,” Root said, taking in the dusty furniture. “If they don't go for this, then they're going to die off. The only question will be whether it's fast or slow.”

Shaw let the shade fall back down. “Does the Machine think they'll go for it?”

Root sat down on a couch that actually looked fairly clean and curled her legs up underneath her. “She thinks they will eventually, but that they're going to argue about it for a long time. Maybe too long.”

“Anything we can do to speed their decision?”

“Nothing _we_ can do, She says, but I think She has a plan. We just need to wait for the time being.”

That was the last thing Shaw wanted to hear. She was getting really sick of running and hiding and sitting around doing nothing. The only positive she could see coming out of it was that Root would get a few more days to recover. Speaking of which….

“Get up from there. I need to redo your bandages.”

The bathroom was larger than the one at the police station had been, and looked like it had been cleaned quite recently. By the time Shaw had dug her medical supplies out of her pack, Root had already taken her bandages off and was peering at the bite mark in the mirror.

Root had gotten really lucky the bite hadn't been worse, but as it was it was still a nasty wound, raw and red on the side of her throat. The shape of the wound had made it almost impossible to stitch up, and while Shaw had done her best to tend to it, Root was probably going to have a hell of a scar.

“Good thing I don't have to play dress up for con jobs anymore,” Root said, a tinge of bitterness in her voice.

It would have been very easy for Shaw to have made a crack about how Root never would have gotten bitten in the first place if she hadn't run off like that, but the look on Root's face stopped her.

“Sit down.”

She tried to be quick and efficient in her work, not dwell on how damn close Root had come to dying this time.

A thought occurred to her and she blurted it out before she'd thought it through. “Were you trying to get yourself bitten?”

Root looked up, startled at first, and then carefully tried to control her expression, but not before Shaw saw the tiniest hint of guilt.

“Seriously, Root?”

“I didn't want _this_ to happen.” She gestured with one hand at her neck. “But I did think that things might go...easier here with proof. More proof than your old injury would provide. But I definitely didn't plan on one of them almost ripping my throat out. I was after something more along the lines of getting bitten on the arm, like you did. Things...got a little out of control though.”

Shaw gently finished taping the bandage in place and went to wash her hands in the sink. She sort of wanted to dunk Root's head in a tub of ice water for being such a goddamn idiot, but she didn't think it would have much of an effect.

“Also I thought it would make you less of a target for Samaritan,” Root added.

Shaw briefly reconsidered the ice water. She waited until she was done cleaning up before responding. “Think I said everything I had to say about all this earlier.” Even if Root had been being more reckless than she'd realized.

“Would it help if I said sorry?”

“Are you _actually_ sorry?” She rolled her eyes when Root responded with a mischievous smile. “Didn't think so.”

Root got up from the edge of the tub and moved behind Shaw at the sink.

“I _am_ sorry that it upset you.” She planted a hand on the edge on the sink on either side of Shaw, trapping her there, and leaned up against her back. “Maybe I can make it up to you?”

Root's breath was hot on the side of her neck.

“Not sure that'll really make up for me having to stay awake for most of a week taking care of you--” Root's hips pressed tightly up against her from behind. “--but it'd be a good start.”

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

 

“Guess I'd better wash my hands then.” Root took her hands off the edge of the sink and reached up to turn the taps on, pulling a grunt from Shaw as she was pushed even harder against the sink.

Shaw watched the water run over Root's hands, almost mesmerized by the movements of her long fingers as she rubbed the liquid soap from the little dispenser over her hands and then rinsed them off. There was nothing sexy about hand washing, and yet.

She inhaled sharply in surprise when Root's hands, still warm from the water, slid up the front of her shirt to rub wet circles on the bare skin of her stomach. Root didn't linger there long though. One hand snuck up to slide under her bra and pinch one her nipples and the other went to work unbuttoning her pants. Shaw scooted back a little to give Root easier access and then moaned embarrassingly loudly when Root shoved her hand down inside both her pants and underwear and explored her with skilled fingers.

“I want you to know, Sameen,” Root purred in her ear, “that I--” Her fingers made fast, tight circles. “--am very sorry--” She pushed one finger into Shaw without warning and Shaw's hands tightened against the porcelain of the sink. “--and I promise not to get myself infected by zombies again.”

She slid a second finger in and started a fast pace and in only a few minutes Shaw could feel herself clenching down on Root's fingers. There was no way she was going to come that quickly no matter how much she'd missed this during the last week, but then Root nipped sharply at the top of her ear (which was _cheating_ since she knew damn well what that did to Shaw) and curled her fingers just right and Shaw tensed and cried out before slumping against the sink, breathing hard.

“Root,” she managed to get out as soon as she'd recovered. “That was the worst damn apology ever. You can't even _get_ infected again.”

Root laughed against the side of her neck. “Really? Oops. Maybe I should try again?”

Shaw pushed her back enough so she could turn around to face her and pull her annoying face down for a kiss.

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

“Let's move this to the other room,” she said when they came up for air. She was willing to give Root another chance at apologizing.

Shaw paused inside the door to the bedroom, shirt halfway off.

“Maybe, uh, do we think they might have wired this place? To keep an eye on us?”

Root tossed her own shirt aside, unconcerned. “She doesn't think so, but if they did, well, maybe they'll learn something new.” She jumped onto the bed with a little bounce and patted the sheets next to her invitingly.

Shaw pulled her shirt the rest of the way off and went to join her. Root lay back on the bed as Shaw walked her way up and over her body on her hands and knees. Shaw paused then, and looked down at Root stretched out under her--her hair spread out around her in shiny waves on the sheets, her cheeks pink and flushed, her eyes dark and excited. And that fresh, white bandage on the side of her neck from where she'd almost died in some dumbass attempt to protect her.

“Sameen? Are you okay?” There was concern in Root's eyes now.

She blinked and shook her head a tiny bit. “Uh, yeah. I'm fine. I'm just...I'm glad you're okay.” She immediately felt silly, a feeling which only got worse when Root’s face split into the sappiest smile she'd ever been unfortunate enough to witness.

This sort of sentimental crap was completely unnecessary. Shaw made a disgusted noise and slid down Root’s body to do something to wipe the silly expression off her face.

She fell asleep much later with Root's head tucked under her chin and slept soundly through the night for the first time since they'd gotten there.

* * *

 

Root woke up the next morning to pounding at the front door. Under her, Shaw groaned and threw her arm over her eyes.

“Maybe they'll go away if we ignore them?” Root asked hopefully.

“Somehow I doubt it.” Shaw sounded disgusted. “Get up.”

Root reluctantly left the warmth of the bed and pulled on the first clothes she found. Both she and Shaw staggered sleepily to the door once they were armed and dressed.

The door swung open to reveal two people and a dog standing on the little front porch. Shaw lowered her gun.

“What the hell are you two doing here?” she growled, blinking in the early morning light.

Reese and Carter looked over the state of her and Root and then exchanged a look.

“Our printer told us you might need a hand.”

“I'm not awake enough to process that.” Shaw stepped back from the door and looked at Root as if expecting her to somehow fix this situation.

But Root was so tired she wasn't sure she could form words. She settled for looking very sad and hoping Reese and Carter would take pity on them.

Maybe they should have gone to bed earlier.

“We'll go find you some coffee, or whatever else they've got around here for caffeine,” Carter said. “Maybe you two should go back to sleep for another hour.”

“Great plan.” Shaw slammed the door shut, immediately reopened it, snatched Bear's leash from Reese and ushered the dog inside, and then slammed the door again. She turned to head back towards the bedroom, taking Bear with her.

“Did you send them here?” Root asked Her as she followed Shaw. The printer comment made that seem like the most likely scenario. “Why though?”

“If you're going to talk to your computer god, then stay out in the living room,” Shaw grumbled, already back in bed.

“Later,” Root promised Her. She climbed back into bed and settled herself under the covers near Shaw. She was startled when Shaw rolled over closer to her and nudged her way up against Root, still muttering under her breath like a cranky child. Bear jumped up on the bed and settled down against Shaw's back.

Root wasn't sure which of them fell asleep first, but it seemed like no time at all had passed before Shaw was shaking her awake again and herding her out into the living room. Their brief nap must have refreshed Shaw, but Root’s head was still throbbing with exhaustion.

She stared reproachfully at Carter and John who had come back and were now seated on the dusty chairs in the living room. John handed her a mug of something that turned out to be weak tea, not coffee, and not nearly as caffeinated as Root would have liked.

She curled up on one end of the couch with her knees pulled up to her chest and the blanket she'd brought from the bedroom wrapped around her and sulked in silence until Shaw sat down next to her.

“So why the hell are you two here? And how?” Shaw asked. Bear came over to sit on the floor next to her and she scratched his ears.

“We drove,” Carter said. “Stole a really nice car that Samaritan had been using that handled the snow about as well as any vehicle could. Walked a ways, too, and finally had to fight our way through a pack of zombies to get in the door.”

John mumbled something in addition that Root didn't catch.

“How exactly did the Machine think you could help here?” Shaw asked.

Root waited for the Machine to fill in the blanks, though now that her brain was waking up she had a suspicion what this was all about.

“Not sure, but the print out we got implied it was urgent that we got here.” John looked around the living room. “Not sure how urgent though.”

“You didn't bring Taylor with you, did you?” Shaw asked and Root blinked in confusion. Who was Taylor?

“He's staying with someone I trust until this is all sorted out,” Carter said. “Didn't like leaving him, but all this is to fight for a better world for him to live in.”

Root should have been able to guess, but she was still startled when the Machine told her who Taylor was.

“I didn't know you had a son.” Wasn't that the sort of thing people usually mentioned? Though if she'd been Carter maybe she wouldn't have told her either.

“He’s one of the reasons I chose to stay in the city when all this went down.” Carter waved a hand to indicate the settlement. “That and I wanted to protect the other people who stayed after so many of the decent cops left.”

“You know a Dani Silva?” Shaw asked. “Former cop. She's one of the people in charge here.”

“Silva, yeah, I remember her. She was a good kid, one of the better cops. Was sorry to see her leave. She didn't strike me as the type to be in charge of a place like this though.”

“That's why they're here,” Root said, sure of it now. “Carter can convince Dani, and John can convince Zoe.” The Machine corrected her and she frowned. “Or Carter can convince Elias?”

“Elias owes me a favor. A big one.”

How in the world had a squeaky clean cop like Carter ended up with a leader of that mob owing her a favor?

“I think the Machine decided we suck at negotiating,” Shaw said. “Fine by me. I'd rather fight the real battles, leave the negotiations to you lot.”

Root poked her with one foot. “Sorry, sweetie, but She says we need to talk to Dani.”

“Why us? We don't even know her.”

Root shrugged. “We'll have to play it by ear.”

John stood up. “Guess the two of us should go talk to Zoe and Elias then.”

“What exactly are we trying to convince them of?” Carter asked.

“Come back to the city, help us take down Samaritan’s human agents so we get full access to the cure,” Shaw said. “Oh, and don't mention anything about AI.”

Root stayed curled up on her end of the couch while Shaw showed the other two out. She heard bits and pieces of Shaw's conversation with John--something about Martine breaking his lamp.

It should have been odd, having Shaw showing guests out of _their_ house, but she found she rather liked the way it made her feel. Not that she wanted a house in the suburbs where they had guests around for dinner or anything equally nauseating, but the idea of sharing a place with Shaw…. She wondered what Shaw thought of it.

“You doing okay?” Shaw asked when she came back. “You’re still recovering.”

“I feel like I could sleep for a week, but my neck doesn't hurt as much. What did Carter do for Elias?”

Shaw sat back down next to her. “She let him go. Samaritan had him and a few of his men cornered when they were trying to escape the city, and she incapacitated the Samaritan agents with a smoke grenade and helped Elias get out.”

“But why?” Elias seemed like the kind of guy Carter would hate.

“Because even then she knew Samaritan was worse than Elias could ever be, and that someday we might need him. Guess she was right about that.”

“Not sure how she'll feel if she finds out he planned to hold the cure hostage in order to solidify his own power base.”

Shaw snorted. “Don't think that's exactly what he was after. Elias may be a crime lord, but he's not an idiot. He wanted to be remembered as the person who brought the cure back here so that everyone here would think positively of him and potentially owe him a favor. Don't think he actually would have withheld it. Not from most people anyway. Maybe from a couple people he didn't like.” Shaw shrugged. “I mean I wouldn't have given Lambert the cure even if we hadn't tied him to a tree to be eaten alive by the undead.”

Root smiled at the memory. “That _was_ fun, wasn't it?”

“Very satisfying,” Shaw agreed. “And the other thing about Elias is he's going to be our strongest ally in getting this to happen. He's a practical guy and he gets that even if there's going to be losses, it's the right move. The only move.”

“That's good, I suppose. But it'll be better if we can convince all three of the council members.”

Shaw looked her over closely. “I can go talk to Silva alone if you need to sleep.”

“No, She said both of us should.”

Shaw got up and offered her a hand. Root reluctantly let Shaw pull her to her feet and lead her back into the bedroom. But instead of gathering stuff to leave, Shaw pushed her lightly towards the bed.

“Silva can wait a few hours. Go back to sleep.”

“But…”

“Don't make me knock you out.”

That was all the encouragement Root needed to get back in bed. She was surprised when Shaw patted the bed and Bear jumped up to join her. 

“You won't leave without me?”

“Not going anywhere, Root.”

In her ear the Machine pointed out that Shaw would never leave her here asleep and unprotected. Comforted by that thought, she drifted back off to sleep.

* * *

 

Shaw didn't want to wake Root up again, but it was going on three o’clock and she figured the sooner they got this over with, the sooner Root could go back to sleep.

Root seemed to be feeling a little better when Shaw finally convinced her to get up.

“Why did you wake up all rested and refreshed after you recovered from being bitten and I feel like shit?”

“Because my immune system is just that good.” Shaw handed her another mug of the weak tea that was the lousy substitute for coffee around here. “And because like I told you, there's a lot we don't know about this cure yet and it might affect different people differently.”

“Let that be a lesson to me, I suppose.” Root was clearly still cranky.

“Hopefully it was.”

Root was a little more cheerful by the time they set out to find Dani, and finally got around to making the joke Shaw had been bracing herself for about how they matched now. Shaw should have seen that coming back when Root had practically been chewing on her neck last night. She'd probably done it on purpose.

“Any idea how they get all their supplies here? Was surprised they have stuff like hand soap,” Shaw asked as they headed across the open area in the middle of the settlement towards where Root assured her Dani lived. Bear trotted next to them occasionally darting away to frolic in the snow before bounding back.

“Did you see the trucks they have parked over by the gate? They send out teams on scavenging expeditions to nearby towns. Over the years they've had to go further and further and it's more dangerous every time.”

Shaw sighed, annoyed at the entire situation. “Why can't they see that this is their only option then?”

“They do see. They just don't want to.” Root nodded her chin at the kids playing in the snow nearby. “They've built a life here, a safe place to hide their families. They don't want to lose their false sense of security.”

“Pretending bad things aren't real never helped anyone.” Shaw looked up at the house Root had led them to. “Let's hope Dani Silva knows that, too.”

Dani opened her front door after they'd knocked twice. She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe as she looked them over.

“I was starting to feel left out with your friends hanging out with Elias and Ms. Morgan.”

“May we come in, please?” Root had a charming smile on that Shaw wasn't sure she'd ever seen before. Always full of surprises.

“You two are here to convince me to throw in my support for your plan to have us all march on Samaritan. Thing is, you only need a majority vote for that. Why talk to me if you're already pressing the other two? Zoe not playing ball?”

“Because a unanimous decision is best for this sort of thing. And because we'd like your help.”

Root acting all sincere like this was seriously weird. Shaw kind of wanted to poke her.

Dani stared at them in silence for another few seconds before she sighed and pushed off the doorframe. “Guess you'd better come in then.”

Dani’s house reminded Shaw a little of her own room in the basement--sparsely but functionally decorated. She made Bear lie down near the door so he wouldn't track wet paw prints across the floor.

“So what's your plan then?” Dani asked as she dropped down into a chair.

She didn't invite either of them to sit, maybe because there was only one other chair. Shaw nudged Root with her elbow. Root was still recovering after all.

Root leaned down to put her mouth right by Shaw's ear. “Only if you sit in my lap, sweetie.”

That earned her a second, slightly harder nudge.

“Why don't you tell her our plan, Root?” Shaw suggested a little too loudly. Because she still didn't know what the hell the plan was for getting them back into the city.

“Of course.” Root reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded up map of New York City. She sat down on the floor next to the coffee table and spread the map out across it. “As you know, Manhattan is an island and the only ways in or out of the city are the tunnels and bridges. Or a boat, but that's not going to be a feasible option.”

“Bridges are all patrolled by armed Samaritan troops and the tunnels have all been sealed up,” Dani said, but she looked a little more interested now.

“True. The bridges are not going to be an option, but the tunnels…”

Shaw wanted to butt in and point out the obvious problem with the tunnels, but technically she was supposed to know the plan already.

Dani saved her the trouble. “Tunnels are sealed up, like I said, but also I heard they're full of zombies. Almost rather try my luck with the bridges.”

“There's definitely zombies in the tunnels, but I wouldn't say that they're full of them. Samaritan sealed everything up within a week of the initial outbreak, so only the zombies that had gotten in before then were sealed inside. Since no living humans were still in the tunnels by that point, there wasn't much in them to attract zombies.”

“Okay, so they're only partially zombie-infested. Still sounds like a rough trip.”

Root shrugged. “Saving the world was never going to be easy.” She looked up at Shaw right then and smiled for some reason, but turned back to the map almost immediately. “There's two major car tunnels under the Hudson River connecting New Jersey to Manhattan.”

Root tapped the map. “The Lincoln tunnel, which comes out in midtown, and the Holland tunnel that comes out in lower Manhattan. The Lincoln tunnel would take us almost right where we needed to be, but there's a much higher chance they figure out what we're up to before we can get out of the tunnel. And I don't much care for the idea of being sealed up inside a tunnel under the river.”

Not much scared Shaw, but that sounded spectacularly unpleasant.

“The Holland tunnel is further away from where all the Samaritan-owned buildings are, and there's a higher chance they'll see us coming as we make our way uptown, but at least we won't be trapped in the tunnel. And there might be a way to reduce the chances they see us coming.” Root looked up at Shaw again and raised an eyebrow at her as if letting her in on a secret.

The subway tunnels. Root was going to get everyone out of the car tunnel and into the subways where Samaritan couldn't see them. It wasn't a bad plan, considering all their options were fairly terrible.

“And once we're in the city?” Dani asked. “We just start knocking on doors?”

Root pointed at the map again. There were a number of small red circles in the area she specified. “These are the main Samaritan buildings. I have exact addresses of each, plus access points, descriptions of the buildings’ layouts, estimates of number of armed agents in each.”

Dani sat back in her chair. “How the hell did you get all of that?”

“Do you really think Shaw, Reese, and Carter have been sitting around idly for the last five years?”

It was a lie. Shaw actually had scouted out a lot of Samaritan facilities in the last few years with Reese and Carter and they'd gathered a good bit of intel in preparation for the war they'd one day hoped to wage, but they didn't have the sorts of details Root was talking about. The only way Root could have those details was if the Machine did.

Shaw could read body language pretty well and she could tell Dani was still uncertain.

“As a council member you speak for all the former law enforcement here, right?” Shaw asked. “And their families as well?”

Dani nodded. “Yeah, so what?”

“If they all die trying to get this cure, there's no one to take care of the other members of their families who can't fight, like their kids. That's what you're worried about, right?”

Dani’s eyes narrowed, but she nodded again. “They voted for me for some reason, and I'm responsible to them. For them.”

“What you're really responsible for then is choosing how they die.” Dani opened her mouth to speak but Shaw hurried ahead. “Because sooner or later either the undead get in here and everyone dies, or you run out of supplies and they slowly die off one by one in here. Or someone in here gets sick and it spreads and there's not enough medical supplies to treat them all. The only way those kids playing out there in the yard have even a chance of getting a happy ending is if we get this cure.”

“I get the point.” Dani stood up. “We're all meeting again tonight. You'll get your answer then.”

“And what will your answer be?” Shaw asked.

Dani walked over and opened her door, an unmistakably clear dismissal.

Root stood up and collected her map. “Let's go. We've said what we came here to say.”

They were out on the porch before Dani spoke again.

"Wait."

They turned back to see her looking annoyed and uncomfortable.

"Thanks. For coming to talk to me, I mean. The other two will probably give you that majority vote, so you didn't have to. I appreciate that."

Root tilted her head to one side. "Like I said, it's better if everyone agrees."

"Yeah, well, whatever the reason. Thanks." Dani turned away from them and shut the door firmly behind herself.

"She's a bit odd for a council member," Shaw said as they walked away, Bear trotting ahead of them. How had Dani ever gotten chosen for that position?

"Hmm, I don't know. I rather like her." Root smiled like she was laughing at some joke Shaw didn't get.

"I thought you didn't like anyone."

"She's smart, direct, loyal, and a bit socially awkward. What's not to like?"

Root's smug little smile was starting to get on Shaw's nerves. “What do you think she's going to do?”

“I think between actually showing her a concrete plan she can understand the logic of, and your reminder of what's at stake, she's going to come to the right conclusion.”

Shaw looked across the settlement, only able to see the futility of the place now. “Hope you're right, because either way, I'm getting out of this place soon.”

Something smacked her on the top of the head and then cold, wet snow was running down her neck into her jacket. She turned towards Root, outraged and wiping snow out of her hair.

“What the hell was that for?”

Root dusted loose snow off her hands. She looked extremely pleased with herself. “You were borderline brooding. It doesn't suit you. Leave the brooding to John.”

Shaw brushed the rest of the snow out of her hair. So it was going to be like that, was it?

“You know, Root,” she said thoughtfully as they started walking again. “It's probably not good for you to be on your feet this much while you're still recovering.”

“Well, it's a good thing we're heading back to--” Whatever Root had been about to say was cut off with a startled yelp when Shaw shoved her over into a big pile of snow next to the path they were walking on.

Root sat up, spluttering and covered in snow. “Knocking a sick and injured woman into the snow, doctor Shaw? Is that what they taught you in medical school?”

Bear came running over to hover anxiously, unsure if Root was actually in trouble.

“You started it.” Shaw wished she had a camera. She offered Root a hand back up.

“Very mature.” Root took her hand, but only let Shaw pull her halfway up before she suddenly collapsed her weight, falling back down into the snow and pulling Shaw after her.

“Root, let me up.” Shaw wiped snow out of her face again and struggled to get her footing back, but Root had her arms around her, keeping her trapped there.

Nearby Bear gave an uncertain woof, confused by his humans' behavior.

“Pushing me in the snow and then jumping on top of me. What will the children think?” Root asked, eyes wide in mock outrage. She ruined the look by giggling.

Root wasn't going to let her up without a fight, so Shaw stopped struggling and adopted a new strategy. “The children should be taking notes.” She leaned down to kiss Root on the mouth and waited until she was good and distracted by Shaw's tongue before she swiftly reached back and disengaged Root's arms from their hold on her.

She meant to get up then, she really did, but maybe she got a little wrapped up in the feeling of Root beneath her, and her mouth soft and demanding against her own, and somehow she'd pinned Root's wrists down into the snow and Root bit at her lower lip and…

Someone cleared their throat, loudly.

“Fuck.” Shaw pulled away and rested her forehead on Root's shoulder for half a second, bracing herself for what came next.

“Hi, John. Zoe,” Root said brightly from underneath her.

Shaw got up slowly and offered Root a hand up again before she turned to look at the newcomers. Fortunately it _was_ only Reese and Zoe and not Carter and Elias which would have been much worse somehow.

“Root. Shaw.” Zoe looked amused. “We were just coming to find you.”

Reese had on the resigned grimace of a man who had seen and overheard far too much in the last few months to be even slightly surprised by this.

“Well, you've found us. What'd you want?”

“The council is reconvening in an hour. I was going to offer you dinner first. Unless you've got other plans for dinner?” Zoe’s eyebrow raise and small smile made her meaning abundantly clear.

“No, we're free,” Shaw said quickly before Root could say something unfortunate.

“This way then.”

Shaw jabbed Root in the side with a finger for revenge as they walked after the other two, but immediately ruined the effect by asking, “Is your neck okay?”

“I'm fine, Shaw. No need to fuss.”

“I wasn't fussing.”

“Don't start sulking or I'll push you into a snowbank.”

Shaw let it drop. And she didn't stop Root from hanging onto her arm on the way over to Zoe's because ‘it's slippery out, Sameen, and I’m still grievously injured’. She was about to be given decent food, Reese and Carter were here now, she had her dog back, and either way things went tonight she was one step closer to getting out of here. Things could have been a lot worse.

* * *

 

“The decision is unanimous,” Zoe said later that night as she stood at the table with the other council members. “We're going back to New York.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter should have more action in it. hope this one was fun despite the lack of action and/or zombies.
> 
> maarika made some adorable art of shoot snow shenanigans. [check it out!](https://themaarika.tumblr.com/post/181300079773/from-the-zombie-au-by-asleepinawell)


	13. The Tunnel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They take on the most fearsome enemy yet: the Holland Tunnel at zombie rush-hour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they were supposed to leave for the tunnel first thing in this but the first couple thousand words are definitely not that at all. oops. listen, they're going to be busy fighting for a while so they had to get it all out of their systems.
> 
> also oops this broke 100k words. it was supposed to be 50k.

Root balanced carefully as she made her way across the roof of their temporary house. Up ahead, Shaw perched on the highest point of the roof, focused on stringing her bow. She didn't say anything when Root scampered up to sit next to her, but she did give a barely perceptible nod of her head in greeting.

Root settled down and took in the view from up top. Behind them she could see the whole of the settlement stretched out before her. There were people bustling around everywhere, getting ready for the trip back to New York in just two days. There were still kids playing in the snow, but they kept stopping to watch the activities around them, probably worried about all the change happening so quickly.

Root turned back around and looked out the other way. Their house was built into the back wall of the settlement, and from here she could see right over the wall into the open. The settlement was on the very edge of the former town, and beyond it was a stretch of snow-covered woods. Between them and the woods, the zombies roamed freely.

They weren't near an entrance here, so the zombies weren't clustered tightly against the wall, but out lurching around and cutting paths through the snow. It was jarring to be able to see them and the interior of the settlement at the same time and understand how close these people lived to death. Last night when she'd been lying safely in bed with Shaw, these things had still been out here, only a short distance away.

Shaw got up into a crouch on the roof next to her and took a moment to find secure footing before standing up to her full height, bow at her side. She leaned her weight back and forth a little to test that she was really balanced and then started to raise her bow. She paused, considering, and then held her bow out to Root instead.

“I don't know how to use a bow, sweetie.”

“No, just hold it a second.”

Root took the bow, curious what Shaw was up to, and then almost dropped it when Shaw pulled her coat off and dumped it on the roof next to her. Shaw was wearing a tank top. In the middle of winter. On a roof.

“Might have gotten in the way,” Shaw mumbled as she took her bow back from Root.

She tested the bow out, probably unnecessarily, her arm muscles flexing as she tugged on the taut string a few times.

Root’s brain kicked back in at some point and reminded her that she needed to breathe and not just gawk at Shaw standing tall on the roof with her bow like some kind of rugged warrior. This had definitely been worth crawling out into the freezing cold air for.

“Arrow?”

Root fumbled for one out of the brace of arrows Shaw had brought up with her and handed it up to her. Shaw repositioned her feet slightly so she stood sideways. She carefully laid the arrow across the bow and then turned to look down at Root.

“Which one first?”

Root tore her eyes away from Shaw's bare arms long enough to look back out at the zombies staggering around blissfully unaware of what came next.

“How about that one?” Root pointed at one the she thought was a decent distance away without being too far to hit.

Shaw scoffed. “Too easy.”

But she raised the bow anyway, her back hand on the string ending up near her cheek as she pulled the string back. Root watched with fascination as Shaw seemed to narrow her focus down to her arrow. Shaw took in a breath and held it, aimed, and released, her breath coming out a second later after the arrow was long gone.

Root eventually remembered to turn and look at the results. Sure enough, Shaw's target zombie was down, lying still in the snow with the deep blue fletching of the arrow sticking up above it like a flag.

“Way too easy.” Shaw looked smug. “Give me a harder one.”

Root surveyed their options. She pointed at one a good bit further back. “How about that one?”

“This isn't even a challenge.” Shaw held her hand out for another arrow.

Root actually watched the zombie this time as Shaw’s arrow hit it in the head with unerring accuracy.

“Which one next?”

She would have been concerned about wasting ammunition if she hadn't seen the ludicrous collection of arrows Shaw had accumulated back in the basement. It had looked like not only had she collected every available arrow in Manhattan, but she'd possibly learned to make her own as well. That was certainly one way to stave off boredom.

They almost definitely weren't going to need arrows again before they got back to the city, and Shaw had promised to only use five up here. It was a bet Root had made with her--mostly as a ploy to get Shaw to do another archery demonstration. Shaw had to kill a zombie with a single arrow five times in a row.

“There.” She felt they were getting to the limits of the distance Shaw could shoot accurately from without any sort of aiming aid, but Shaw only grinned and raised her bow again.

Root watched the zombie twitch and fall.

“How far can you actually shoot with that thing?” she asked. Difficult shots were fair, but she wasn't allowed to choose one outside the limit of the bow's range.

“Nothing beyond the first bunch of trees.”

“Then the one right on the edge of the treeline that's walking in circles.”

It was even further away and its erratic motions should make it more difficult. Shaw nodded as if satisfied that Root had finally chosen her a worthy target. She took a little longer to line up her shot this time, leading the zombie with the tip of her arrow before she released.

“Okay, I'm impressed,” Root said. Impressed was not the correct word for what she was right now.

“You should be. Last one.”

Root took her time choosing. She was torn about whether or not she actually wanted to win this bet. Finally, she decided.

“That one.”

The final zombie was just beyond the treeline, disappearing from time to time behind tree trunks. Root expected Shaw to call out of bounds on it, but Shaw only grunted and took another arrow.

Root watched with her breath held as the zombie wandered behind a tree. Shaw was already aiming though and she released the arrow early enough that Root was sure it would hit the tree or miss completely. At first she thought it _had_ hit the tree, but then the zombie fell forwards, the arrow lodged in the front of its head that had just been peeking out past the trunk.

“Nailed it.” Shaw sounded very pleased with herself.

“There's something else you can nail next,” Root said in a strangled voice.

“I bet there is. And I won.”

“No argument here.”

It took an unreasonably long time for them to gather all their things and make their way back down the roof and into a window on the second floor. Root graciously allowed Shaw to climb all the way back in the window before she shoved her up against the nearest wall and pressed their mouths together with a fierce intensity.

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Shaw’s arms were ice cold under her fingers and she wondered what it would be like to have Shaw's cold fingers touching her somewhere a bit more sensitive. She grabbed one of Shaw's hands and dragged it towards her belt buckle, but Shaw pulled away from her.

“Uh-uh. I won that bet, so it's my choice of fun.”

Root released her and took a step back. “By all means.”

Shaw looked around the room--first at the bed and then at the bathroom--like she hadn't thought this far ahead and was only now considering her options.

“Damn shame the handcuffs are back in the basement.”

“Well, actually….”

Shaw’s eyes narrowed. “You didn't.”

Root went over to where she'd left her pack on the floor and dug around in the bottom of it and started pulling things out.

“We had to run for our lives from an evil AI and its homicidal barbie-robot bitch minion and you took the time to pack a _dildo_?”

“Never know what you might need, right?”

“In what scenario did you imagine we'd need a bunch of sex toys?”

“Well, this one right here, for starters.” Root held the dildo up and waggled it back and forth.

“Good point.”

“And here’s the handcuffs.” Root tossed them to her.

“Now we're talking.”

It took Shaw some time to work out her master plan, but it ended up with Root propped up on some pillows by the top of the bed, her arms pulled back above her head and cuffed to the headboard and the harness with the lubed up strap-on all ready to go fitted snugly around her hips.

She'd expected Shaw to get right to the good part, but Shaw had other plans. Plans that involved lavishing attention on Root's breasts for what felt like hours, pinching and licking and biting at each one in turn until they were aching in the most wonderful way and Root couldn't help but arch her back and press into Shaw's mouth as Shaw's tongue flicked over her nipple. Her arms were already sore from tensing against the cuffs and she knew she was going to end up rubbing her wrists raw before Shaw was through with her.

Shaw finally pulled back and straddled one of Root's thighs, grinding down on it. Root’s breath hissed out when she felt how wet Shaw was against her leg. Root hadn't even touched her and she was already drenched. She wanted so badly to grab Shaw’s hips and help grind her down onto her thigh and maybe scratch lines up her sides maybe get in some reciprocal groping while she was at it.

“Sameen…”

“You know what they say about patience, Root?” Shaw asked as she moved against Root’s increasingly slick leg.

Root flexed her thigh and tried to angle it better for her. “Never waited around long enough to find out.”

Shaw chuckled and finally moved up towards where Root really wanted her.

Root would deny to her grave the undignified whimper that escaped her as Shaw slowly sank down onto the strap-on, her eyes meeting Root's the entire time with a look that seemed like a challenge, though a challenge of what Root wasn't sure.

Shaw rolled her hips once, almost experimentally, and the movement echoed through Root where the base of the toy was pressing against her. Having Shaw looming over her like this, with that dark, hungry look in her eyes was mesmerizing. Shaw rocked back and forth slowly a few times and Root watched with fascination as her stomach muscles fluttered and tensed and threw her abs into sharp relief.

“Shaw, choke me.” Root considered the bet she'd lost and hastily added a “Please.”

“How the hell am I supposed to do that with your neck all chewed up?” Shaw asked, her head back, but her eyes down to look at Root.

“Sameeeen,” Root wheedled.

“Next time think about that before you get yourself mauled,” Shaw said without sympathy. She closed her eyes and started to move a bit more forcefully.

Root had been planning to play it cool this time, let Shaw see how unaffected she was by all the teasing, but that plan was a plan for someone who didn't have a front row seat to watching Shaw slowly slide up and down the strap-on in tight, controlled movements, with her perfect abs and her amazingly wonderful breasts just out of reach and oh god but she wanted to touch her so badly.

She realized she was straining hard against the cuffs again and forced herself to relax. The metal cuffs clattered loosely against the headboard.

“Going somewhere?” Shaw asked, her voice deep and rough. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were half-lidded and Root marveled at the wonder of her.

“Nowhere I'd rather be, Sameen.”

Shaw grinned and her eyes lit up. “Damn right.”

She leaned forwards to brace herself with both her hands on the headboard next to Root's wrists and now Root had a killer view of all those arm muscles she'd seen during the archery demonstration right next to her face now and frustratingly just out of reach for her to sink her teeth into.

Shaw started moving in earnest, gliding easily up and down on the shaft of the strap-on, and letting out a deep appreciative moan. Root rolled her hips against Shaw, matching her pace. She was only somewhat aware of the fact she was letting small desperate whimpers escape her every time Shaw's weight pressed the base of the toy into her.

Shaw’s face was so close to hers, her eyes still half-shut. Shaw grunted and bit her lip as she increased her pace, riding Root at an almost frantic pace. She grabbed Root's already-restrained wrists and pinned them more firmly against the headboard.

Shaw was almost completely silent when she came, her body shuddering to a halt and her hands crushing Root's wrists. Her head hung down as she caught her breath and then she looked back up through her sweaty locks of hair and grinned.

“I love winning.”

“And I loved watching you win, sweetie, so really everyone benefited. Though I could stand to benefit a bit more if you catch my drift.”

Shaw chuckled. “I bet you could.”

Root tried to lean in and kiss her, but Shaw pushed herself back out of her reach and then slid off the toy and sprawled out on the bed next to her on her back.

“Shaw?” Between the archery and the strap-on Root was getting pretty desperate and she didn't think it would take _too_ much more for her to come, but there wasn't a lot she could do for herself in her current position.

“You need something?”

Root angled her leg sideways to kick her in the hip, but Shaw fended her off easily.

“Okay, okay. I get it.” Shaw rolled back over onto her hands and knees and unbuckled the harness from around Root and pulled it off of her. She gripped Root by the hips and slid her further down the bed so her arms were stretched out above her. Root took the opportunity to try and plant her foot in Shaw's face as revenge for the teasing, but Shaw grabbed her ankle.

“You kick me in the teeth, you definitely don't get to come.”

But Shaw's tone was playful, as was the small nip she gave Root's ankle before releasing her. She rested her hands on Root's thighs, feather-light, and then digging in just the tiniest bit as she spread Root's legs open wide and knelt between them. She ran her hands lightly up and down the insides of Root's thighs, from the backs of her knees to almost high enough but not quite and back again. Her palms were rough and calloused against Root's skin, but also warm and almost gentle and Root sank into her touch, relaxed but eager.

Shaw pushed her legs further apart and sank down onto her stomach between them. Her warm breath ghosted over Root and she inhaled sharply before letting out a slow and shaky breath.

“Someone looks a bit worked up.” Shaw's voice was a low rumble from between Root's legs.

“And whose fault is that?” Root asked, her breath hitching when Shaw bit lightly at her inner thigh.

Shaw grinned up at her and then finally leaned in to put her mouth where Root needed it.

Shaw’s mouth was hot and demanding against her and Root let her head fall back against the pillows as Shaw's tongue pressed into her. Above her, her arms twisted and pulled hopelessly against the cuffs.

For some reason she found herself recalling the first time Shaw had gone down on her, back in that loft the night they were stuck out in the woods. It had been fast, and hot, and just rough enough that they'd both felt it the next day. They'd definitely branched out a bit from back then, but the difference that struck her the most was the little things.

Things like how Shaw's hand was gripping her hip hard, but her thumb brushed back and forth Root's skin every now and then, a subtle caress. And how they'd both taken the time to learn so much about each other's bodies, evident in the way Shaw ghosted the fingers of her other hand along the back of Root's knee making her tremble and bite her lip.

She hummed in approval when she felt Shaw's fingers teasing her entrance and she hooked a leg around Shaw to encourage her. Two fingers sank into her slowly and her eyes fluttered shut as Shaw's mouth closed over her clit.

“Shaw…”

Her voice came out desperate and full of awe at the same time and Shaw stilled for just a fraction of a second before she moved her fingers in Root with more purpose, speeding up quickly and fucking Root hard while her tongue played with Root's clit. Root tighten her leg around Shaw and tried to push herself into her as much as she could, her hips rising off the bed. Having her arms stretched out above her head didn't give her much leverage, but Shaw's free hand reached under her to grip her ass firmly and lift her off the bed.

Shaw’s mouth pulled away from her for an unacceptably long moment, just long enough to ask, “Can you take another?”

Root tried to reclaim enough of her higher brain functions to answer but settled for just nodding vigorously.

Shaw slid a third finger into her and god she felt so full with Shaw's fingers moving deep inside her and stretching her out in slow, languorous strokes. She lifted her head off the pillow to stare down at where Shaw was ensconced between her legs. She was staring right back up at Root, her eyes wild and dark. She didn't break eye contact once as she sped up her movements again, all three fingers pressing into Root faster and harder.

Root tightened her leg around Shaw's back and was rewarded with Shaw sucking hard on her clit, making her legs tremble and her stomach muscles clench. She turned her head sideways to bite down on her own arm and muffle the throaty cries Shaw was wringing out of her. Shaw’s fingers curled inside her, dragged over a spot that made her brain short-circuit. Blood rushed in her ears and her skin felt like it was on fire as her body tensed and coiled around Shaw and then melted back onto the mattress with a drawn-out moan of satisfaction.

Shaw carefully withdrew her fingers and walked up over Root's limp body on her hands and knees. She looked her over with a smug grin for a few seconds before finally leaning down to kiss Root and press her tongue into her mouth. Root had been ready for a nap, but the taste of herself on Shaw's lips pulled another moan from her and she rattled the cuffs insistently.

Shaw got the hint and sat up to uncuff her.

“You good for another round, or do you need a nap first?”

Apparently Shaw took winning very seriously. The bet had been for calling the shots for an entire day, but while Root was more than game for that, she'd figured Shaw would want to go deal with other stuff to get ready to go. She'd never been more pleased to be wrong.

“Give me five minutes, and then I'm all yours.”

“Better not fall asleep on me then.” Shaw eased herself down so she was lying on top of Root, her hands folded across Root's stomach with her chin resting on them.

 

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Shaw’s skin was warm and smooth against her, and Root reached out to tangle her hands in Shaw’s hair and stroke it a bit, tentatively at first and then, when Shaw seemed to approve of the attention, a bit firmer, digging her fingers into Shaw's scalp in a massage. The long strands of Shaw's hair were soft and heavy between her fingers and she wondered at how far they'd come that Shaw was basically purring under her hands rather than batting her hands away. And how was it that Root could now look at another person and see someone worth her while, someone who defied all her expectations for humanity?

She smiled lazily down at Shaw and freed one hand from Shaw’s hair to bop her on the nose.

Shaw’s eyes narrowed. “Do that again and you'll lose a finger.”

“You're way too fond of my fingers for that, sweetie.”

Shaw opened her mouth to argue and then paused. “Okay, maybe a toe.”

Root chuckled and went back to rubbing Shaw's head with her fingertips.

“The Machine doesn't need you to do anything today?” Shaw asked after a few peaceful minutes.

“Not really. Once we get back to the city there'll be plenty to do, but right now we just have to wait.”

“I hate waiting.” Shaw's words were slightly slurred as if she was the one falling asleep now.

“I know, sweetie, but there'll be plenty of asses to kick soon. Too many, maybe.”

“She have odds for us on if this is going to work?”

“Which part? Taking down the human agents or taking down actual Samaritan?”

“Either. Both. You still haven't told me how we're even dealing with the AI part.”

“We can talk about it on the drive back. Too many ears around here.”

Shaw snorted. “Well, if they were listening in, they certainly got a show.”

Root felt sufficiently recovered now and Shaw's firm, warm body pressing up against her own was giving her all sorts of ideas about how to spend the rest of the day. “Wanna give them an encore?”

“Okay, you nerd.”

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Fifteen minutes later someone knocked on the front door.

“Who the fuck is that?” Shaw growled, not even slowing down a little.

“Someone who can come back later.” Root’s hands tightened on the bed frame as Shaw grabbed her hips and pounded into her hard from behind. Shaw seemed to be into taking turns today which apparently meant it was her turn to fuck Root senseless with the strap-on while Root clung to the headboard for dear life.

Someone knocked again and the Machine gave Root an update she was in no state to even remotely care about. And Reese really should have known better than to drop by unannounced regardless of if he was returning Bear or not.

“You locked the door, right?” Shaw panted against her neck.

“Locked it and stuck a chair under the handle.”

“Good enough. Fuck them, then.”

“I think you mean fuck _me_.”

Shaw bit her hard for that, but it was on the uninjured side of her neck so Root figured she was just evening her out.

They collapsed into a sweaty heap after their fourth round. Root managed to pull the sheets up over both of them before they passed out.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

“Should I wish you good luck now or would that be jinxing it?” Zoe asked.

“Not sure you could make the odds worse, so you're probably safe,” said Shaw. She leaned back against the side of the hummer they were going to be driving back to the city. It was the same one she and Root had shown up in, now with a full tank of scavenged gas. The snow had started melting and Shaw was hopeful that the drive back at least wouldn't be a issue.

“The odds can always be worse,” Reese muttered.

He'd been extra brood-y since Carter had headed back before them, sent on a mission by the Machine via Root to rally the people in the city willing to fight. Shaw had told her to use her name at the market to get the weapons she knew they sold in secret there. They were going to need everything they could get their hands on.

“Well, I'll wish you good luck then, Shaw, and John, stop being a drag.”

Shaw smirked and Reese upped the intensity of his brooding. Shaw glanced over her shoulder at where Root was already curled up in the passenger's seat of the car. Midday the day before she'd announced that she was done with people and had refused to interact with anyone except Shaw and Reese since.

“I know there's no way to send word back quickly, but don't make me wait too long,” Zoe said.

Zoe had been the obvious choice to stay behind and run the settlement while all this played out. She may have gotten tougher since the outbreak, but she wasn't a fighter. Not the way Elias and Dani were.

“We'll do our best.”

“Better get going then. You've got a war to win.”

“Right. Later then.”

Shaw left before Zoe could try to hug her or something. Maybe she was with Root on the being done with human interactions bit.

She climbed into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut behind her. In the rearview mirror she saw Reese and Zoe still talking. She'd been too...busy over the last few days to be able to tell if the two of them had hit it off again, or if Reese’s interest lay elsewhere now.

“You ready to get out of here?” Shaw asked.

Root stirred in the seat besides her. “Beyond ready. I know we're going to be stuck with all of them after we get back, but at least we'll have a few hours alone.”

Shaw had opted to load the hummer with supplies to avoid having to take other passengers on. She was still upset that Carter had taken Bear back with her, but she agreed that the Holland tunnel was no place for a dog.

The trucks carrying the majority of the fighters from the settlement were first out the gate, plowing down any lingering zombies as they went. The settlement had made a good effort to clear out the area in front of the gates that morning with a mixture of Molotov cocktails and a surprisingly effective snowplow that someone had welded spikes onto much to Shaw's delight. She'd gotten a turn driving it and it had almost made up for all the other bullshit she'd gone through on this trip. Mowing down zombies with a truck was definitely the right way to start the morning.

Well, Root had actually demonstrated the _best_ way to start the morning for her before that, but it had been a close second.

Shaw buckled herself in and put the key in the engine. “Time to head home.” She headed them out the gates and back out into the wild.

“I've never had a place to go back to before. Not really.” Root’s voice was a little hesitant, like she wasn't sure she actually wanted to talk about it.

“What about where you grew up?”

“No, I definitely never went back there. And with any luck it was completely wiped out in the outbreak.”

Shaw risked a quick sideways look at her. Root looked normal, maybe a little tense, but there was nothing there that matched the coldness of her voice.

“Odds are on your side on that one.” She got the impression that this topic was a minefield she'd stumbled into and she searched for a safer question. “Do you miss what you did before this? The hacking part I mean.”

“Yes.” Root said it with an unusual intensity. “Even when I can find a computer to use now, it's not the same. I'm not sure I'll ever get that back.”

Shaw had been hoping for fun hacker hijinks stories and not another way to make Root moody about the past. She sucked at this.

“Uh, well, you have the Machine still though. So it's kind of like you're hacking everything that's left all the time with her, right?”

Root didn't answer, but when Shaw looked over she didn't look mopey like Shaw had thought she would, she had her head tilted to one side and was smiling faintly.

“That's not exactly how it works,” Root said at last, “but it's a nice thought. And She says you were trying to make me feel better, which is adorable, sweetie.”

The Machine had snitched on her. Unfair.

“It's a long car trip and I don't want to be stuck with someone brooding the whole time.”

“And yet you lived in a basement with John for five years.”

“He didn't brood in the basement much. Not dramatic enough. He used to go out to brood.” The conversation had turned ridiculous, but that was a decided improvement. She imagined Reese, perched on top of some New York church with gothic architecture, brooding like an unusual gargoyle with his coat flapping in the wind.

“The Machine used to do that, you know. When I was living out here on my own,” Root said.

“AI can brood?”

“No, I meant She used to try to cheer me up when I was...having a bad day. One time She tried to learn to tell jokes.” There was warmth and amusement in Root's voice now.

“Tried being the key word there, I take it?”

“She has a hard time understanding human humor sometimes--”

“Her and me both,” Shaw muttered under her breath.

“--and She mostly tried to generate jokes based off of all the existing jokes She had access to. They came out as nonsense, and when I explained that to Her, She said that most jokes _were_ nonsense. She wasn't wrong, but I couldn't explain to Her why one joke was funny and another wasn't.”

“She ever figure it out?”

“Not completely, but She got better at it. There's a lot of human oddities She can never quite grasp. Like schadenfreude. That one she never understood.”

“Even after hanging out with you for five years?”

Root laughed at that, a quiet but pleased sound that made Shaw relax a little. They'd made it back into more comfortable territory now.

“Tell me something else about what you and her got up to out there.”

“Really?”

“It's a long drive.”

They were headed through some deeper snow now, but, even though the hummer was crawling along, Shaw wasn't too worried about them getting stuck, especially not with the big trucks ahead breaking up the worst of the snow.

Root had a lot to talk about once she got started--all sorts of stories about her time living in the wild. Shaw could tell she was purposefully staying away from the tougher topics, and listening to Root describe how she'd been stuck in a tree due to fleeing from an angry bull while the Machine frantically read farm animal handling literature to her was a good way to spend the time.

“She still had access to a bunch of audiobooks, but I was sick of all of them by the end of the first year, so She tried to make up Her own stories to tell me.”

“Bet that went about as well as the jokes.”

“No, She actually got the hang of it fairly quickly. She'd been watching people all Her life, so She had so many stories to work from.”

“Did they all have happy endings?” She was getting the impression that the Machine was as much of a sap as her favorite human.

“She usually didn't end them. Not definitively. She always left room for the possibility of more.”

Root didn't like endings, Shaw remembered. The Machine must have known that.

She recognized the buildings they were passing now. “Not to interrupt, but I think we should make a quick stop here.” She grabbed the walkie talkie on the dashboard.

“Reese, we're making a pit stop. Gonna stretch our legs.”

“Got it.”

Everyone ended up stopping to get out and stretch, but Shaw managed to sneak off with Reese and Root without the others noticing.

“Whatever this surprise is better be good,” Reese grumbled as he followed them through the deep snow.

“Oh, it will be.”

Shaw spotted the house she and Root had crashed in overnight and used it to figure out which part of the treeline to aim for.

Reese froze. “Is that…?”

They all watched the zombie tied to the tree thrashing back and forth endlessly.

“Yep.”

Jeremy Lambert had only been dead about a week, but he looked like he'd been rotting for far longer. It was fairly evident that his death had come from being ripped into by multiple undead, and all the places where the ropes cut into him were rubbed into open sores.

“Well, I think it's a vast improvement,” Root said brightly. “Especially the part where he can't talk anymore.”

“Definitely an upgrade,” Shaw agreed.

“Can't believe I missed out on this.” Reese hefted his mace. “Should we put him out of his misery or leave him there to rot?”

Lambert didn't look like he was going anywhere soon, but Shaw didn't like the idea of leaving an enemy alive (or undead) behind them. They'd already done that once, but why risk it further?

She reached back for her hammer. “I'll handle this.”

Reese looked considerably more cheerful on their walk back and Root was almost skipping. She'd barely even met the guy, but his death (double death) seemed to have delighted her.

“Is this where you got bitten, Root?” Reese asked out of the blue.

Shaw hadn't really thought about it, but in all the bustle of getting ready to leave (and the fact she and Root had locked themselves in the house for an entire day), Reese had never heard all the details of their trip to the settlement.

“No, that was later, trying to get into the settlement. We got rushed near the doors to the tunnel and a zombie bit me during the fight.”

“Root decided to take on all of the undead alone,” Shaw added the important little piece of information Root had neglected to mention.

Reese looked back and forth between the two of them, as if sensing that this was a point of contention.

“Why alone?” he asked cautiously.

“Because Shaw is only safe from the normal zombies, not the smart ones, and one charged at her.”

“And Root decided the best way to deal with that was to fight all of them herself.” And get bitten almost on purpose, but Shaw left that part out.

“Ah,” Reese said a little too carefully and Shaw knew for a fact that he was thinking that he probably would have done the same thing.

Idiots.

Root’s grin looked a little wary now. “The important thing is we're both mostly safe now which will come in handy when we have to get through the tunnel.”

Root kept trying to look at her without being caught, probably trying to gauge if she was annoyed again. Root was very bad at not being caught.

“You sure the tunnel is our best bet?” Reese asked again. Shaw was starting to wonder if he was claustrophobic. He had been very opposed to the whole idea from the first time he’d heard it.

“It's our only bet according to the Machine.” Shaw wasn't crazy about the idea, but she had to admit it was better than anything else she could think of.

“And you trust the Machine, Shaw? Whole idea seems like a great way to get us all killed.”

“I trust that the Machine wants to save lives, not waste them.” She remembered Root's quiet apology to the Machine after she'd saved their lives by killing all of Samaritan’s men. “And I'm pretty damn sure she wouldn't let Root go in with us if there were really no chance of surviving.”

“You're saying she cares about people? Specific people?”

Shaw had reached that conclusion so long ago that it was a little surprising to find out that Reese hadn't, but then he hadn't been involved in any of those conversations she’d had with Root about the Machine. Shaw thought about Root, stranded out in the middle of the zombie-infested world without another human around to help her or talk to her, and about the Machine making up stories for her to make her feel a little less scared and alone.

“I'm saying she cares about Root, and maybe us, too.”

“She’ll protect us, John.” Root patted him on the arm. “Even you.”

Reese nodded glumly, defeated. “Don't suppose I could get my coat back?”

Root was still wearing it despite the fact it had gotten a good bit of her blood on it during the fight.

Root smiled fondly at him and scrunched up her nose. “Not a chance.”

They all walked the rest of the way back to the trucks in companionable silence.

“I'm glad you trust Her,” Root said as they settled back into the hummer. “She's glad, too. She admires you, you know, so your trust means a lot to Her.”

“The Machine _admires_ me?”

Root nodded seriously. “She thinks you're very cool.”

“Well, I am,” Shaw said, and started the car. The whole thing was still a little odd, but she could appreciate the Machine’s logic at least. “That why she chose me and Reese to reach out to after the outbreak even though we had been about to quit the ISA?”

“Yes, that and everyone else in the ISA was dead.”

That made it slightly less flattering, but whatever. “We've got a long drive still. Tell me something else about her.”

* * *

 

The big sign that read “Holland Tunnel” was lying broken amidst the rocks covering the entrance. Root had never driven through the tunnel back before the apocalypse, so she wasn't sure what it had used to look like, but a few of the people from the settlement seemed shaken by the change. Even after all these years of living in the ruins of the old world, some things were seen as eternal, and while Root wouldn't have guessed the Holland tunnel was one of those things, maybe it was to people who'd been stuck in traffic there every day for most of their lives.

Elias and Dani were begrudgingly working together to organize everyone into clearing the rocks. It was a tedious process, lacking any equipment to help, but the Machine seemed convinced they could open enough of a gap for humans to enter one of the two tubes.

“How long will it take to get through this thing?” Shaw asked. They were both still in the front seat of the hummer, watching the others start to move the rocks. Shaw would take a turn at it a little later, but she'd banned Root from helping due to concern that she'd reopen her injury. Ridiculous, but Root had no desire to move rocks so she didn't argue.

“It's about 1.6 miles, so maybe half an hour if it wasn’t pitch black and full of zombies. She thinks we can be through in an hour if we're lucky.”

Shaw looked at the tunnel entrance doubtfully. “And we really can't steal a ferry instead?”

“I thought you trusted Her?”

“I do, but…. It's probably going to smell awful in there.”

“Did you know there's actual huge ventilation towers built on top of the water that used to clean the air out? Not working currently, but She thinks we'll be okay for the trip at least.”

“Is there anything she _doesn't_ know?”

“Well, things that weren't recorded in digital format, and there's a lot of information She no longer has access to after She had to hide.” She knew it had probably been a rhetorical question, but Shaw didn't seem to mind that she'd answered. In fact, she nodded and Root could tell she was storing that information away for later.

She pulled her coat tighter around her. “It's cold in here.”

“It's colder outside.” Shaw seemed distracted by watching the progress on the tunnel entrance.

Root leaned across the seats so she could talk right into Shaw's ear. “I know a way we can warm up.”

Shaw rolled her eyes. “No.”

She bit Shaw's earlobe just hard enough to make her twitch. “The windows are tinted.”

Shaw turned far enough to push her back to her side of the car. “No. I have to go move rocks and you have to sit here and try not to get in trouble for once in your life.”

Root sighed loudly. She was already bored just thinking about it.

“Stay,” Shaw instructed her before she climbed out of the car.

The next few hours were excruciatingly cold and boring. Root got out to walk around and warm up and actually contemplated sneaking over to help out since it looked like a good way to stay warm. She didn't think she'd ever felt so relieved in her life when Shaw finally motioned her over.

“We're through.” Shaw pointed at the small opening they'd made, barely big enough for a person to get through.

Now that the reality of creeping through a tiny hole into an underground tunnel full of zombies was in front of Root, she was suddenly very uneasy.

Shaw moved to the front of the group. “I'm going in first.”

It made sense since there were unlikely to be any of the advanced zombies in the tunnel and the others wouldn't notice her, but Root still didn't like it. The Machine couldn't see them in there.

She managed to wait an entire ten seconds after Shaw disappeared before she shoved past everyone and slipped inside.

Her first thought was that Shaw had been right about the smell. It was awful and overpowering--stale air and a hint of rotting meat. Root almost gagged.

“Figured you'd come charging in after me.” Shaw stood nearby with a flashlight in hand. “Looks like we've got a full welcome party here.” She played the beam of the light over what appeared to be an endless sea of undead milling around the entrance. Root had been expecting it, but it was still creepy how they didn't react to her at all.

“We're going to have to thin these guys out before we let anyone else in,” Shaw said with a resigned tone.

Root was now regretting getting bitten, though it might actually have been worse to wait outside in the cold and not know if Shaw was okay.

She unhooked her machete from her belt. “I guess we'd better get started then.”

There was something almost monotonous about slicing down an enemy that wouldn't fight back. The smell only got worse and they had to leave and come back several times to get some fresh air. Shaw also got them heavy-duty gloves so they could move some of the growing collection of corpses to the side, and made her wear a shirt tied over her mouth and nose.

Behind them, the others worked on widening the opening, and, once it was wide enough and the zombie pack had been thinned a bit, the others moved in to help wipe the rest out while they fell back to rest.

“Is it going to be like that the whole way through the tunnel?” Shaw asked as they gratefully breathed in the fresh air.

“Based on what She knows about zombie behavior, She doubts it. She thinks that most of them clustered near the exits because there'd be hints of life and noise from outside that would attract them. There’ll probably be more in the tunnel along the way, but hopefully not as many.”

Shaw stripped off her gloves and tossed them aside. “Hope you're right.”

Shaw had wanted to use torches at first, but had decided against it once she considered that it would probably make the smell much, much worse.

It was full dark by the time they decided to risk going through the tunnel, not that the daylight would have helped much beyond the first stretch of tunnel. Shaw announced she was leading the way, which meant Root was, too.

“Think we should try the catwalk?” Root asked, shining her flashlight up at the little walkway that ran along the length of the side of the tunnel.

Shaw shook her head. “It's pretty narrow. Not great for fighting. And the tunnel floor is mostly clear.”

Root shone her light over the tunnel interior. There were two car lanes in here, and high, slightly curved walls of shiny white bricks. She wasn't sure what it would have looked like properly illuminated, but it looked dull and depressing to her now.

There actually were cars still in the tunnels, though not many. It looked like some people had abandoned them and left on foot. There were definitely too many to be able to attempt driving through though.

“You're sure you know what you're doing?” Elias had come to stand next to them near the entrance.

“Do you always know what you're doing?” Shaw asked him back.

Elias just smiled.

Dani looked doubtful as well, but she held her peace and Root reluctantly gave her another point in her tally of people who were acceptable even if they weren't Shaw.

“Let's get this over with,” Shaw said and headed forwards into the darkness.

The two of them were a little ways ahead of the others, acting as scouts, and their footsteps echoed in the tunnel. The empty tube seemed to stretch endlessly away in front of them, the corridor getting darker the further they moved from the entrance.

It got harder and harder for Root to hear the Machine in the tunnel, deep under both water and concrete. She still remembered what it had been like to be cut off from Her for days and she didn't like the absence of Her voice in her ear.

She wanted very badly to talk to Shaw to take her mind off of it, but they were supposed to be staying quiet.

The next stretch of the tunnel curved away from them, making it harder to see ahead. There were also a lot more cars in this section. It looked like there'd been a crash here and a bunch of cars had piled up and been abandoned. It was hard to see through the blockade of empty vehicles, but Root swore she could hear rasping breaths and dragging steps coming from the maze of cars.

She only just managed not to jump when Shaw tapped her on the arm. She moved closer to Shaw so she could see her face without shining her light in her eyes. Shaw motioned at the cars with a couple arm gestures Root thought maybe meant she wanted to climb on top. She nodded, because whatever Shaw's plan was it had to be better than walking between the cars without knowing what was beyond them.

Shaw climbed up on the back of a BMW, staying low and moving quickly but quietly up the back windshield to the top of the car. She crouched there for a long moment before looking back at Root and jerking her head to indicate she should join her.

The car shifted ominously under her feet as she climbed up and she felt like every sound the metal made under her boots was unbelievably loud. Shaw steadied her when she joined her on top and pointed ahead.

There were dark shapes moving between the cars. Root let her flashlight beam illuminate one. It wasn’t as rotten as she'd expected, like maybe it had been preserved down here in the dry darkness, but its teeth were yellow and its skin looked almost slimy. Its eyes reflected back the flashlight beam in the dark like a cat's. A high-pitched wheeze escaped from its ruined mouth as it stared vacantly at them.

Shaw tapped her arm again and held up four fingers and then pointed at four places out in the darkness. Root made a note to herself to go over vague arm-wavey gestures with Shaw before they went into a tunnel full of flesh-eating zombies next time, but she got the basic idea. Shaw would go after the two on the left, she'd go after the two on the right.

Even though the zombies didn't really react to them, there was something exceedingly creepy about being so close to them in the darkness. Root carefully climbed over the cars towards the first one, uneasy about the way it watched her approach. She paused on the roof of a car directly above it, unnerved by the way its head turned to track her. It didn't seem hostile, but almost curious, like it thought she was a zombie behaving oddly, which, she realized, maybe was _exactly_ what it thought she was.

After so many years of being hunted by these things, it was bizarre to be able to observe a passive one from so close.

But there was no time to stall here and observe its weird behavior. The others would catch up with them soon, and the zombies wouldn't be nearly as passive for them. She made quick work of it with her machete--wrinkling her nose at the smell--and clambered away over the cars to deal with the last one.

This one paid her even less attention than the last and she didn't waste any time crushing its skull.

Except it let out a horrible high-pitched squeal as her machete hit it, echoing away into the darkness. Root held very still, barely breathing as the sound died out. She relaxed after a few seconds had passed quietly, but then an answering shriek echoed from out in the darkness. And then another and another.

“Fuck.” Shaw's voice carried to her.

“Get them up,” Root called to her. “Get them all up onto the catwalk.” The catwalk had been empty the entire way and it was high enough up that the zombies couldn't follow.

“Right.” Shaw darted over the cars, headed back towards the others.

Root stayed where she was, listening as intently as she could for any noise at all coming from around the curve of the tunnel. Behind her she could hear the sounds of people moving around, probably climbing up over the railing of the catwalk to supposed safety.

Shaw returned a minute later and climbed over to her car.

“Root, we need to move.”

“I thought maybe we can help better from down here. Since they won't attack us, right?” The advanced zombies were almost definitely the product of Samaritan’s experiments, as opposed to the normal ones and the fast ones, so the odds were very good that there weren't any in a tunnel that had been sealed since near the start of the outbreak.

“What can we do down here?”

“Up there we're stuck in close quarters, but down here we have more room. We can try to help keep them off the others.”

Shaw sighed. “You're right, but I hate that you're right.”

Off to the side she could see people creeping along the catwalk, Reese’s obnoxiously tall form in the lead. They were almost even with where she and Shaw crouched when they heard the zombies. It was an echoing rumble of feet hitting concrete and the entire tunnel seemed to shake from it.

“Sort of like when Reese and I threw the grenade in the subway,” Shaw said from next to her. She sounded unfairly calm for the given circumstances. She glanced sideways at Root. “You okay?”

“I'm good.” Probably.

Shaw shone her flashlight almost in her face and leaned over to pull down the collar of her coat.

“You're ruining my night vision, Shaw.”

“Making sure you didn't reopen it.”

“What would you do if I had?”

Shaw scowled. “I'd think of something.” She released Root. “Here they come.”

The zombies at the front of the pack had too much momentum and went barreling into the barrier of cars, bouncing back and falling over each other. The car Root was on was a few back, but she still felt it shake from the impact travelling through the vehicles. The rest of the zombies were quick to notice the humans above them on the catwalk on the side of the tunnel. There were too many of them to be completely silent, and the zombies were all hunting now.

The zombies rushed and tripped over each other in their hurry to get to the wall, their long decaying arms stretching up the wall to grab at the ankles of the people above.

“Move! Fast!” Reese’s voice called out, and the line of people picked up speed, trying not to trip as the zombies grabbed at them.

Shaw stood up. “Let's give them a hand.” She glided away from car to car like some type of mountain cat, so graceful that Root forgot to follow her for half a second. She gathered herself and followed after Shaw, slightly less gracefully, heading towards the wall.

The zombies didn't even turn towards them, too intent on their prey above. They were easy to pick off, but there were far too many of them for just the two of them to handle. One would fall and the others would walk right over it without even noticing.

No one was supposed to use guns down here since all ammunition was being saved for the coming fight, and that left the people on the catwalk almost defenseless.

“Come on, we need to move.” Shaw grabbed her arm and pulled her further down the tunnel to keep pace with the others. The cars thinned out quickly and they were back in the open tunnel with only the zombies down on the ground level with them.

“How much further is it?” Shaw asked.

“I...I'm not sure.” Root tried to recall how long they'd been walking before they got to the cars. And they were moving along much quicker now. “Maybe another ten minutes?”

“And then what? There's no way out at that end.”

“We're going to have to fight.”

“Either the two of us try to take them down one by one or the others try to help and it's a massacre.”

Neither option seemed great, but they kept moving, picking off zombies as best they could to hold them off of the group.

A few minutes later, Root heard a very welcome and familiar sound.

“I can hear you,” she said softly, relief flooding her body. The Machine was back with her now even if everything else was horrible. She listened carefully as the Machine filled her in on the current situation above ground. “How close? You're sure?”

She hurried ahead to catch up with Shaw. “We need to stop up ahead.”

“Stop? Are you serious?”

“The Machine says we need to.”

Shaw paused. “How far ahead?”

“In about thirty seconds.”

“Right.” Shaw took off ahead calling for Reese to let him know.

Root came staggering to a halt next to Shaw and the line of people up top all piled up on each other as they tried to stop. Root listened to Her for half a second and then grabbed Shaw by the arm.

“We need to get up. Now.”

Shaw eyed the mass of zombies between them and the catwalk. “Up ahead then.”

The zombies hadn’t gone far past the humans and beyond them the path to the wall was clear. Root could also see something new: thin cracks of light spilling in from the darkness ahead. The end of the tunnel. And something very loud was happening outside.

Shaw tapped her on the arm to get her attention. “Give me a leg up.”

Root boosted her up enough that she could grab the lowest rung of the railing and haul herself up before reaching back to pull Root up after her. Root had barely cleared the railing when a loud crash resounded through the tunnel and a gust of cold, fresh air rushed past her.

It took her a few seconds to understand what she was seeing and when she did she wondered if somehow she was hallucinating.

“Damn,” Shaw breathed next to her sounding about as impressed as Root had ever heard her, and with good reason.

The pile of stone and rubble blocking the end of the tunnel had crumbled completely before the mass of a giant bulldozer. Seated in the driver's seat was Carter, Bear sitting next to her in the cab and barking excitedly.

Carter angled the front of the bulldozer towards the wall so that the zombies along the wall were scraped up as she drove and crushed beneath the treads.

“Wow.” It was Reese, standing nearby with his mouth gaping open. It was a debate whether the idiotic grin on his face or on Shaw's was larger and honestly Root couldn't blame them. There was saving the day and then there was this.

Carter backed the bulldozer up over the surviving zombies and then hopped down with her sword to finish off the remaining few. Shaw leapt over the railing to help and Reese was right behind her. Root was a little more careful following them down and by the time she caught up, it was all over.

“Reese told me to check the printer for instructions,” Carter was explaining to the others when Root got there. “And the printer told me I needed a way to open this entrance to the tunnel quickly.”

“And you just happened to know where to find a bulldozer with fuel in it?” Shaw asked. She was bent over Bear, fussing at him and getting licked in the face for her troubles.

“There was a construction site I remembered nearby and some of your friends from the market got me fuel. Seemed like the fastest way.”

“Samaritan will have seen this for sure,” Reese said, worried but still staring at Carter in awe.

“Actually, your printer thought about that, too.” Carter pulled a cloth out of her pocket and started cleaning off the blade of her sword. “Yesterday it gave us locations of cameras all over the city. We took out a ton of them, simultaneously to be safe, and all over so there's no way it knows what we were trying to hide. I figure as long as we clear out of here quickly we're good. And I think Samaritan will have other things to think about shortly.”

“Detective Carter.” Elias had climbed down to join him, and Dani Silva followed behind, also looking a little wide-eyed from Carter’s entrance.

“It seems like I owe you again, Detective,” Elias said when he reached them.

“Not my fault you keep getting in trouble.”

“That was pretty great,” Dani agreed, “but shouldn't we get moving? Can't imagine someone didn't notice that.”

Shaw jumped off the bulldozer tread, Bear following behind her. “Probably a good idea.” She looked over at Root. “We clear to get them to the subway?”

“She says we are.”

“Then let's get out of here.”

* * *

 

“I never thought I'd make it back here,” Root said as they entered the basement.

Shaw could hear the relief in her voice, and something else, almost like yearning.

“Only a brief stop,” she pointed out.

Reese and Carter had taken the others through the subway and to the market building to rest for a few hours, but Root had asked if they could stop here instead and catch up with the others before they headed out and Shaw hadn't been able to refuse her.

“How much time do we have?” Root asked as she headed towards her room, peeling off her shirt as she went. “Because I want a shower.”

“Three hours. Actually more like two and a half since we have to get to where the others are.”

“Enough time for a shower and a nap then.”

Shaw wasn't going to argue with that. A shower sounded great after the filth of the tunnels. She let Root go first and was pleasantly surprised when she didn't use all the hot water.

By the time Shaw got out of the shower, Root was already curled up sound asleep and hugging Bear. In Shaw's bed.

Well, it wasn't like she'd have been against Root sleeping in her bed anyway. Shaw towel dried her hair as best she could and then slipped into bed behind Root.

Root woke up briefly and mumbled something sleepily and squirmed backwards into her more, pulling Bear with her. Shaw relaxed into them and tentatively laid her arm over Root's hip so her hand rested in Bear's fur. In two hours they'd have to get up and go to war, but for now they could relax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> archer!shaw is just such a Good Aesthetic and i'm not sorry at all. so is big damn hero Carter.


	14. Into the Lion's Den

“Thought you'd be the one leading the charge now.”

Root looked up from sorting through her weapons to see Carter leaning against the wall nearby. She'd found herself a quiet little corner off on one side of the stage of the theater-turned-market-turned-base and had been trying to avoid getting too heavily involved in the preparations. The Machine would let her know if she was needed.

“Leading an army isn't really my thing.” Too many people needing too many things and being obnoxious and useless. She'd have done it if the Machine had needed her to, but she was very glad that She had other plans for her.

“Not mine either, and yet for some reason everyone seems to think I'm in charge.” Carter sounded suspicious.

And her suspicion was justified, though Root had no intention of letting her know that. After all it was Carter who'd rallied the New Yorkers, Carter who'd shown up to save the troops from the settlement, and Carter who was somehow in charge now. Root hadn't previously realized that the Machine had been setting her up for this, but, looking back now, it was fairly obvious. And impressive.

And mostly Root was pleased someone else had to deal with all the crap that went with being in charge.

“Is there anyone else you'd trust to lead right now?”

It had been a rhetorical question, but Carter actually considered it.

“Maybe Shaw.”

Root looked over to the other side of the stage where Shaw and Reese were engaged in a tug-o-war match over a shotgun.

“I don't think Shaw's interested in that sort of responsibility.”

“She's not. Doesn't mean she wouldn't be good at it.”

Shaw stomped on John's foot and cackled with glee as she successfully claimed the shotgun.

“She'd grow into it,” Carter conceded with an amused smile and Root found herself smiling back without meaning to.

“But in the short term, I think we're in agreement that there's no one else suited to take the lead?” Root prompted. “I mean, unless you want to let Elias run things.”

He'd certainly tried his best to take control of the situation, but the people from the city all knew and respected Cater, and Dani had been more willing to back her than Elias, so he'd found himself without allies. Fortunately, Elias also respected Carter, so he wasn't causing too many issues.

“Suppose so. Doesn't mean I like it.”

Root didn't particularly care if Carter enjoyed her new role. As long as everything was going according to the Machine's plans, she didn't need to be concerned.

“And where are you going to be during all this?” Carter asked.

“Wherever She needs me to be.”

“So I shouldn't count on you and Shaw being with the main force the whole time then, right?”

Root could understand why the Machine valued Carter's perceptiveness so highly, but it was damned annoying to her.

“I might have an errand to run at some point, yes.”

“Which means Shaw will go with you.”

“If she wants to.” The Machine had planned for Shaw to accompany her, but it was ultimately Shaw's decision.

Carter snorted. “Shaw will go with you, whether you want her to or not.” She pursed her lips and looked Root over critically. “Speaking of which, are you planning on pulling some vanishing act after all this?”

“I'm...not completely sure what happens after this.” She'd been afraid to ask the Machine about that.

“Hmph.”

They both turned to look back over at John and Shaw. Somehow John had gotten the shotgun back and was holding it above his head while Shaw attempted to climb up him like a tree. Root wondered if Shaw would resort to some friendly stabbing to get her gun back. Root always enjoyed a good stabbing.

“As good a way as any to blow off steam before a fight,” Carter said.

Root could think of a better way. Maybe that closet she and Shaw had used before was still vacant.

But Carter killed her hopes when she said, “Probably should get this operation underway.”

Shaw came over to sit next to her on the large crate she'd claimed while Carter was off overseeing getting the troops moving.

“You gonna let me in now on what the plan for taking down Samaritan--the _real_ Samaritan--is?”

“Well, we're not going to do anything until we're sure Carter has secured the cure. That's the main priority here.”

Shaw wiggled a little closer to the edge of the crate in an attempt to let her feet touch the ground. The crate was just high enough that her legs couldn't quite reach and it obviously bothered her. “And after we do that?”

“The troops mop up the rest of Samaritan's human agents, and we go after the AI.”

“And just how do we do that? I'm not a hacker like you.”

“And I don't have access to anything I'd need to be able to fight Samaritan like that, and even if I did there wouldn't be much I could do against an AI. Fortunately, She's taking care of that part. All _we_ have to do is destroy its servers.”

Shaw grinned. “I _do_ have some C4 I've been saving for a special occasion.”

“She knows.”

“Is there anything she doesn't know?”

Whether any of this was going to work, but Root kept that to herself.

“She's not sure what we'll find in the building where the servers are housed. She has a rough idea of how many people are stationed there, but not much else.”

Shaw shrugged, unconcerned. “Spent most of my life running missions without an omniscient AI.” She gave up on trying to reach the ground and  absentmindedly kicked her heels against the side of the crate.

Root only knew about Shaw's previous life from her ISA file, but she often found herself wondering about the little details that wouldn't be in a file, and about what their lives might have been like if that cover story the Machine had made up for her had actually been true and she'd been Shaw's partner in the ISA. Extremely unlikely given her illegal proclivities, but it was a fun scenario to imagine from time to time.

“Oh, here.”

Shaw fished something out of her pocket and tossed it in Root's lap. It proved to be a small push dagger, barely three inches in length including the handle, with a very thin sharp blade.

“Thank you.” Root smiled perhaps a little more widely than was called for, but she couldn't help it. Shaw had given her a present! An excitingly violent present!

“Can never be too well-prepared, you know, and small stuff get overlooked sometimes.” Shaw looked slightly embarrassed, probably because Root was still grinning like an idiot. “Go for the throat and it'll get the job done.”

Shaw continued to give her some knife fighting tips while Root nodded along as if she didn't have eleven kills (not counting zombies) with a bladed weapon to her name. Shaw's enthusiasm and hand gestures were just too endearing to miss out on.

“Anyway, can't hurt to have an extra weapon.”

“How many extra weapons do you have, sweetie?”

“Eight. Well, my main gun and seven extra weapons of various types.”

Root wondered what Shaw would do if she tried to pat her down.

Almost as if she'd heard Root's thought, Shaw hopped down off the box.

“Looks like they're getting ready to move out. We should go.”

“Right.”

Shaw glanced back at her. “Something wrong?”

It was probably the last quiet moment they'd have together until all this was over and it felt like that necessitated _something_ , but what that something was Root couldn't quite figure out.

She shook her head. “Good luck, Sameen.”

“I don't leave things up to luck. That's why I have eight weapons and you and Reese to watch my back. Now let's go.”

But Root had finally figured out what the situation called for and reached out to tug on Shaw's sleeve until she turned back around. She quickly transferred her grip to the collar of Shaw's coat and hauled her in for a kiss that was only supposed to last a second but seemed to gather momentum as it went.

They both surfaced for air when someone cleared their throat nearby. Somehow Shaw had ended up standing between Root's legs and had her hands up the back of Root's shirt, and Root had mussed up Shaw's ponytail quite a bit. They were both breathing hard, their bodies pressed as closely together as was possible in their current position.

“I think I owe John an apology,” Carter, the source of the throat-clearing, said from a few steps away. “He told me you two went at it like rabbits every time you were left alone for five seconds, but I thought he was exaggerating.”

Shaw stepped back and made a vague attempt to fix her hair. “I am not,” she said firmly, “a goddamn rabbit.”

Root patted her consolingly on the arm.

“If I leave are you two actually going to get ready to go?” Carter asked.

“We're coming,” Shaw grumbled.

Carter rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that's the problem.”

And then she turned and left, leaving Shaw gaping after her in disbelief.

“Did she just…?”

Root smirked. “Let's go, sweetie. Quick like a bunny?”

“No.”

“Hop to it?”

“ _No_. And you're banned from speaking until we get to the subway.”

Root wasn't about to pay any attention to that, but she did finally get up off the crate and followed Shaw out of the auditorium.

* * *

 

Shaw kicked a rock across the subway tracks. “This is the most boring fight I've ever been part of.”

“The zombies aren't the objective here,” Reese pointed out. “Samaritan is, and there's only a handful of us here who've ever fought real, trained agents before so we need to save our strength for that.”

The fact he was parroting Root's words from earlier just made Shaw more annoyed (how dare they team up on her with logic), as did the sounds of fighting coming from up ahead. But they were supposed to hold back and protect the rear while the others forged a path through the undead. Boring.

“Not my problem if you two are too feeble to be in more than one fight a night.”

Root drifted back over to them. “There'll be plenty of people to shoot soon enough, sweetie.” She never once stopped looking around the dark subway tunnel as if searching for something. “Hmm, maybe over there.” She wandered off again.

Reese turned to Shaw and raised an eyebrow in question.

“Shitty reception,” she explained. “She can't hear the Machine well down here.”

“Is there something she needs to be hearing right now?”

“Dunno.” It was slightly hilarious to watch Root wander around asking, “Can you hear me now?” like she was a Verizon ad, but not entertaining enough to make up for being left out of the fun.

The good news was that having an actual small army meant getting through the crowd of undead in the subway much quicker and Shaw didn't have to suffer for too long before everyone was milling about in confusion at a subway stop.

“This is the problem with armies,” Shaw said quietly to Reese as they shoved their way to the front. “People in large groups are incredibly stupid.”

“Stupid, but useful when pointed in the right direction,” Reese agreed. “Like a rocket launcher.”

Carter, Dani, and Elias were huddled together near the stairs up to the street. Nearby Fusco was arguing with someone she didn't know about a box of supplies.

“We're going in with twenty people,” Carter told her when they caught up. “Dani and Elias are going to each take a team and deal with the other two Samaritan buildings in the area, keep them from calling in reinforcements. And I'm sending Fusco along to keep an eye on Elias.”

Shaw hefted the shotgun that was definitely hers and not Reese's. “Sounds good to me.”

Having the Machine feed them the security codes to the doors felt a little like cheating, but Shaw didn't mind so much once she was inside the building and got to break some unsuspecting Samaritan agent’s nose.

There was something, she thought as she shot another agent in the leg, intensely satisfying about fighting other humans that was missed out on when fighting the undead.

“Root, where are we headed?” Shaw asked once their welcoming party was down.

Root daintily stepped over the prone body of an agent who might not bleed to death if he was lucky. “Lab is on the third floor, but the servers with all the research on them are in the basement.”

Shaw stepped a little closer to her and lowered her voice. “Not the servers like Samaritan’s actual servers, right?”

“Those are in a different building, but all the research on the cure is stored here.” Root wiped at Shaw's cheek with her thumb. “You've got some blood spray on your face, sweetie.”

“Who's going after the servers and who's going after the lab?” Reese asked.

“We're going after the servers, John, and Sameen is going after the lab.”

Shaw had sort of assumed she'd been included in the original ‘we’ and frowned when she realized the plan. “Why do I--”

“You're a doctor and you'll have a better chance of understanding anything you find there than most of these people. Meanwhile I'll go deal with the computer bits.”

Shaw's disapproval must have shown on her face because Root patted her on the cheek. “Don't worry, the big lug will take good care of me.”

Reese didn't look thrilled with the plan, but he finally sighed and agreed, “Go on, Shaw. We've got this.”

If they hadn't been in the middle of enemy territory, Shaw might have objected more strongly, but as it was they had to get moving and she got to watch Reese and Root set off down the staircase with only five people for backup while she stayed behind.

“Guess we should head up then,” Shaw said to Carter.

“Guess so.” Carter didn't look any happier about splitting up than Shaw was.

They left five people on the main floor and five more on the second and took the remaining five with them to the third floor to find the lab. The third floor was a long white-tiled hallway with doors with no windows on both sides of the hall.

“Let's try in here.” The sign on the door Shaw had chosen only said ‘Testing In Progress’ on it, but none of the other doors had even had a sign.

Carter got the door and Shaw covered her and cleared the lab on the other side. She wasn't that surprised to find it empty (since it was the middle of the night), but the entire place was too clean, almost like someone had come through and sterilized the whole room and removed every single loose item.

“Something's off here.”

Carter looked up from the desk drawer she was examining. “What's the problem?”

“Not sure, but something here isn't right. It's too clean, too empty. People always leave clutter, even if it's just a pen out of place.”

Carter nodded in agreement as she looked around. “They had someone come through this place and clean it up real good. Hiding something maybe?”

“Maybe. Let's check some more rooms.”

The other rooms all proved to be in a similar state, and none of them had anything resembling any kind of doses or even materials for making the cure.

Shaw stalked back into the hallway. “Something is really off here. We need to leave.”

Carter fell into step next to her. “Agreed. Let's round up the others and--”

There was a clatter of feet on the stairs and Root and Reese burst into the hallway.

“We have to get out. Now.” Root looked about as frantic as Shaw had ever seen her.

“What's going on?” Shaw asked as they all hurried down the stairs.

“Samaritan must have known we were coming. This place is a trap.”

“Basement was empty,” Reese added. “Empty except for a lot of homemade explosives.”

“Fuck.” Shaw grabbed Root by the arm and sped up.

The thirty seconds it took to get back to the door they'd come in from were some of the longest of Shaw's life. The winter air outside was a relief, but Shaw didn't stop for even a second.

“Need to get clear,” she yelled at the others. At least she had Root in hand so she couldn't go wandering off into trouble.

They made it about two blocks before Shaw felt, more than heard the explosion. The force of it slammed into her and sent her flying forwards along the pavement. The entire world swam for a few seconds and she couldn't hear anything over the ringing in her ears. And then the normal flow of time reasserted itself and everything fucking ached and her head was throbbing. She tried to pull herself up off the ground, but her left arm wouldn't support her weight properly.

“Fucking broken wrist. Fuck.” She rolled over onto her side slowly and sat up. Her clothes had gotten ripped a bunch from sliding along the pavement, and she had a lot of cuts and scrapes plus the horrible headache and ringing in her ears, but she seemed to be in one piece.

“Root.” She looked around for her.

“I'm okay, Shaw.”

Root was already up on her feet and looked suspiciously undamaged other than for some scrapes and bruises.

“We need to do something about your wrist,” Root said as she crouched down next to her. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“No, I'm fine, but how did you…?”

“John decided to be a gentleman and shield me from the worst of it.” She looked around. “Is there something we can use to make a splint for this?”

Shaw got the impression that the last hadn't been addressed to her. She was about to ask where Reese had ended up, but he limped into view right then. He was definitely strongly favoring one leg and his suit jacket had gotten pretty shredded and there looked to be an actual piece of metal sticking out of his shoulder, but at least he was walking.

“Got a med kit in my coat,” Shaw said. “Not much of one, but better than nothing.” She brushed off Root's attempts to help her and struggled to her feet. “Where's Carter? We need to move off the street in case they send someone in to mop up.”

“Her and Fusco are checking on everyone else.” Reese winced. “Don't suppose you could get whatever this is out of my arm?”

“Maybe. I think I saw someone with a supply pack somewhere? We'll need a better med kit than I have on me.” She scanned the area and pointed out a store with the windows shattered from the. “Let's get in there.”

Carter showed up while Shaw was in the middle of splinting her wrist with some heavy cardboard and a piece of John's coat.

“Got a few badly hurt people out there--” She looked at Shaw's wrist. “--but our other doctor can take care of them.”

Shaw hadn't realized there'd been another doctor, but it came as a huge relief.

“Good, because as soon as I finish causing Reese a lot of pain, we're moving out.” She'd be damned if she didn't finish the mission because of some minor injury.

“I'll get you some supplies from the other med kit,” Root said and vanished out the door before Shaw could stop her.

Carter squatted down next to Shaw to look at her wrist. “You really up to this? There's other people who can fight. Silva and Elias's teams are still both fine. Their buildings weren't traps and they cleared Samaritan out.”

Good news finally. “I'll be fine. Fought with much worse than this.”

Removing the metal from Reese's shoulder proved to be easier than expected as it hadn't gone in deep. Still, it wasn't a pleasant process, though Root helped distract him by giving him a very thorough list of places she'd hooked up with Shaw.

“You two were...while I was stuck in a tree in the woods?” Reese asked, outraged.

“Don't make this about you, John.”

Shaw snickered and used Reese's distraction to extract the metal with a twist of her wrist.

“Ow!”

“Don't be a baby. It's gone now.” She went to work patching him up. The whole process was a pain in the ass with only one functioning hand, though Root provided some help holding things in place, usually anticipating the need seconds before Shaw asked. Slightly aggravating, but useful. “So where's the cure actually?”

Root shrugged. “Definitely a copy of the research on the servers we need to destroy, but that means we have to get inside rather than just blowing up the whole building. As for the actual doses they had…. Could be in any other building, or destroyed. We need to focus on getting that data on it now. It's the safest bet.”

Shaw stood up and ripped up the remainder of Reese's suit jacket for a sling. “Guess we're going server hunting.”

Reese got up, too. “I'm coming with you.”

Shaw glanced at Root, wondering where that fit into the Machine's plan, but Root didn't comment.

Carter huffed in annoyance. “You three get to run off and do the fun part while I'm stuck here with this lot.”

“Think of it this way,” Reese said, “you get to be a hero of the people.”

“Rather pass on that.” Carter looked them over. “See you all on the other side.”

Shaw threw her a lazy salute with her good arm.

“Where to?” she asked once they were back out on the street.

Root steered them towards the corner. “Uptown a few blocks.”

Shaw fell into step next to her and lowered her voice. “You're awfully quiet since the explosion. What's up?” It wouldn't have surprised her if Root was hiding an injury.

On her other side, Reese dropped back a few paces to give them some space. Shaw wasn't sure it was necessary, but maybe it was nice of him or something. Whatever.

“Nothing, just trying to listen to Her for updates from around the city.”

“Uh-huh.” Sounded like at least a partial lie, but Shaw let it go. For now. “What _is_ going on in the city? Surprised we haven't run into any more Samaritan troops.”

“They don't have nearly as many as you'd think. There weren't that many in the city before the outbreak, and they've only lost numbers since there's not much a pool the recruit from.”

“Makes sense.” No wonder Lambert had been so keen to recruit her.

“As for what's going on in the city…. Samaritan is stretched fairly thin so they've completely abandoned some buildings to focus on protecting a few, central ones.”

“Like the one we're headed to.”

“Surprisingly not. There doesn't seem to be that much in the way of agents there.”

“That's...not reassuring. They wouldn't blow up that one, too, would they?”

“She says no. Maybe they have a different way of defending it.”

“Also not reassuring.” She glanced sideways at Root. “You sure you're good?”

“I'm not the one with a broken wrist.”

“Yeah, but you're being weird.”

Root fidgeted with the ties on her machete belt loop as if they were the most important thing in the world. “We need to stay focused on the mission.”

Shaw gave up. “How come we're walking through the city above ground now? Can't Samaritan see us?”

“Yes, but it knows we're coming anyway now and they don't have the time or people to set up an ambush.”

When it became clear that Root didn't have much else to say, Shaw looked back at Reese to let him know it was okay to come back and then quickly filled him in on the intel Root had provided. The rest of the trip passed in relative silence until they were about a block away from their destination.

“Are we storming the front door?” Reese asked as he peered around the corner at the building.

Root shook her head. “Too exposed. She's brought us around the back where we can gain access through a fire exit.”

Shaw peeked around the corner as well at the nondescript office building. “What's the plan once we're in?”

“Find the servers, copy the data, rig the building to blow up, get out.”

“Sounds good. Let's go.”

Shaw double-checked her weapons as they cautiously approached the building. Her war hammer had gotten some nasty dents in it during the explosion, but it only made it look more badass in her opinion. Using it with one working wrist was going to be interesting, but she liked a challenge.

The fire door was sealed up tight, but Root pulled a lockpick set out of her pocket and handed it over to Reese. “She says you two know your way around breaking and entering.”

Shaw wasn't sure she could have used the picks with one hand, so she let Reese have all the fun.

The inside of the building smelled like disinfectant and was deserted. They didn't run into a single person or see anything helpful at any of the abandoned desks they passed on their way to the staircase. It was reminiscent of the building they'd just barely escaped from, but Shaw figured she'd have to take the Machine's word that this place wasn't going to blow up as well.

“Up or down?” she asked.

“She's blind in here, so we have no way of knowing.”

“I'll try down, you two try up?” Reese suggested.

“Don't like splitting up.” Shaw considered their fairly limited options. “We on a clock here?”

“Not exactly, but the sooner we finish this, the better. She still needs to take care of Her part of the fight, and Samaritan is investing a lot of effort into tracking Her down right now.” Root's lips curved into a small, vicious smile. “It's scared.”

No helping it then. “Watch yourself down there, Reese.”

The second floor was much like the first except the door from the stairwell was a heavy metal affair with a locking system that Shaw really didn't like.

“This screams ‘trap’,” she said, examining the bolts on the inside of the door.

Root vanished into a room briefly and came back with a chair. “Prop it open.”

If there was even one Samaritan agent in the building, the chair was useless, but better than nothing.

Root stopped in front of a door to a windowless room. “In here, I think. This room is sealed which means it could easily house a server. Temperature control.” She pulled the cover of the card reader by the door off and started pulling at the wires behind it. “She doesn't have the code, so I'll have to see what I can do.”

A loud noise from the end of the hall made them both look up to see the door slammed shut. Yeah, that chair had been utterly useless.

Up and down the hall, other doors swung open silently and mechanically. The hairs on the back of Shaw's neck stood up. No wonder the building was empty--it had a much better defense than a couple guys with guns.

“Get back.” She pulled Root down the hall towards the exit door. It was undoubtedly locked, but they needed to make sure they didn't get surrounded.

The undead that came out of the rooms were quite clearly the more alert kind--Shaw could tell by the way they moved and watched the two of them. They also looked very fresh--couldn't have been dead more than a day or two.

Samaritan had made them a welcoming party.

Root pulled her machete out, but Shaw shoved it down.

“Time for the big guns.” She dumped her pack on the ground (because fighting with C4 strapped to her back didn't sound like a great idea), handed Root the shotgun she'd brought, and reached for the submachine gun. “Literal big guns.”

Root pointed the shotgun down the hall.

“And it's not even my birthday.”

“I had to fight Reese for that gun, so consider it an early birthday present.” Or a late one. She had no clue when Root's actual birthday was. And she couldn't have easily used the gun with one hand. The submachine gun was a little easier to handle.

The undead moved towards them in an unnervingly coordinated way, far more like wild animals than mindless, ravening animated corpses. The first few rows of them were almost too easy to deal with due to their combined fire power, but Shaw noticed that most of the undead were hanging back behind the first bunch.

“They're getting us to waste our ammo,” she shouted at Root. She wouldn't have believed it if it weren't happening right in front of her. “Switch to pistols.”

It was definitely slower taking them down one at a time and once they switched weapons more of the undead pressed forwards as if they knew the difference.

Shaw had to switch back to the submachine gun before too long to thin out the ones trying to rush them. There seemed to be a endless supply of the creatures still pouring out the doors into the hall.

They weren't going to have enough ammo to deal with them all.

Shaw considered her options as she calmly mowed down another pack of the undead. She could use the war hammer one-handed, but it would lack the force of having both arms to swing it so it'd be a lot tougher. If she thought Root had any experience at all with a similar weapon she'd have suggested swapping since the machete was a much better one-handed weapon, but it probably wasn't a great time for trying out new weapons.

“I'm out.” Root dropped her gun to the floor with a clatter and pulled out her machete.

Shaw still had a full clip in one gun, but it wouldn't be enough to hold them back and she wouldn't be able to shoot once Root got in melee range of them. She shoved it in her belt and reached for her hammer.

The hallway was wide enough that they could both fight next to each other without hitting each other, but once the undead were within melee range, things took a turn for the worse. These undead moved like they shared a mind and seemed to have little problem with getting killed to give the rest of the pack an advantage. It made fighting with one arm even more of a challenge.

She didn't realize exactly how cunning these undead were until two of them moved to her left so that when she turned to deal with them three more rushed Root on her other side. She cursed when she heard Root struggling and swung her hammer to bash in the skull of the second undead so she could turn back to help her.

Root was down on the floor wrestling with one of the undead, her machete lying on the ground next to her. Shaw smashed the undead in the ribcage with her hammer which knocked it clean off of Root. She waited for it to land before she crushed its head.

Root was back on her feet almost immediately and waded back into the fight, but Shaw could see blood on one of her arms. Maybe having Root get the cure had been fortunate after all. Not that she would ever in a million years tell her that.

“I have a thing that might work,” Root called over the sounds of combat and undead groans.

“I'm all ears.”

“Hopefully not, and you may want to cover your actual ears.”

A horrible, high-pitched noise started screeching from Root's position and Shaw saw her drop something onto the floor and kick it into the herd of undead. The sound was godawful and made Shaw's teeth hurt, but it actually did seem to have some effect on the undead who were acting disoriented now. One of them shook its head back and forth as if it could dislodge the noise.

Shaw knew better than to waste an opportunity and she pressed their advantage. The undead were actually being driven back now, both by her attacks and by the horrible noise. About a minute after Root had turned the sound on, the undead nearest Shaw turned around and retreated. Then another and another until they were all going back into the rooms they'd come out of.

Within a matter of minutes the hall was empty.

“The door, quick.” Root took off towards the door she'd been trying to open before and Shaw paused only to retrieve her pack and then followed after her. She spared a quick glance at the device still emitting horrible high-pitched noises that made her whole head throb. It was some sort of little recorder that Root must have had stashed in her pocket. She was probably damn lucky it hadn't been smashed in the explosion earlier.

The threat of the undead still only a few feet away behind open doors must have been great motivation, because Root had the door open in about five seconds and they slipped inside and slammed the solid metal door behind them.

“What the fuck was that thing?” Shaw asked as they caught their breath. The sound was greatly muffled in here, much to her relief.

“The Machine has been experimenting with other frequencies to see which have an effect on the zombies.” Root grimaced as she poked at her shoulder. “She found one that seemed to confuse and scatter them that could be played back on a simple recorder.”

“Tell her good job then.” Shaw pulled the collar of Root's shirt down and to the side so she could see the new wound. It was only a very shallow bite, more of a scrape really, and a nasty set of scratches from the nails of one of those things. “I've got some disinfectant--”

“Later, Shaw. Look.”

Shaw had only taken a cursory glance over the room they were in, enough to confirm they weren't in danger, but not enough to have taken in any details. Now she took another look and yeah they'd hit pay dirt because this was definitely a server room, full of racks of humming machines.

“These what we're after then?” she asked though she was only narrowly fighting down the urge to hunt in her pocket for that mini med kit because an actual corpse had left open wounds on Root with its dirty fingernails and that shit was not to be taken lightly.

“Yes, just need to find...ahah!” Root took off down a row of servers and Shaw followed along after her. She found her at a desk in the back corner that had a couple monitors and a keyboard and mouse on it. Root was typing away on the keyboard and muttering to herself under her breath. There was something about the sight of her with her face lit up by the monitor glow and her painted black nails flying over the keys that just looked so _right_ to Shaw, like this was Root in her element.

It was kind of hot.

“Uh, so how are you going to get the data off the servers anyway?”

Root didn't respond but reached into her pocket and pulled out and entire _handful_ of usb thumb drives. Where the hell had she gotten all of them and why did she need so many?

“You just happen to carry those around with you everywhere you go?”

Root plugged one of the drives into a hub on the desk. “Old habits die hard.”

“How are you pulling stuff off there anyway? Isn't it password protected or something?”

Root made a small, offended tsking noise and Shaw rolled her eyes.

“Okay, fine, isn't Samaritan going to stop you then?”

“Samaritan is just a _tiny_ bit busy at the moment.”

“The Machine?”

“She's starting to make Her move against it now. We just have to carry through on our side of the bargain now.” Root plucked the little drive back out of the hub and put it back in her pocket with the others. “Now how about that C4?”

“Got it right--” And then something hit Shaw very hard in the back of the head and the world went black.

* * *

 

Root felt the blood freeze in her veins as she watched Shaw fold up and collapse to the floor. Behind her stood Martine, holding the gun she'd just knocked Shaw out with and smirking.

“Why hello, Veronica, I don't think we've met.” Martine tapped her gun against her own cheek with a thoughtful expression. “Although that isn't your actual name, now is it?”

“It's Root, you bitch. Just Root.”

Martine's smile only widened. She motioned at Shaw's prone form. “You can check on her if you want. Go ahead.”

Root sank to her knees to check Shaw's pulse. Strong and steady. She shifted Shaw's head so it was on her lap rather than the floor and gingerly felt along the back of her head for the large bump left by getting hit by the gun. Shaw was going to have a hell of a headache when she woke up, but at least she would wake up.

That terror she'd felt when Shaw had been bitten and then again earlier when the explosion had sent Shaw flying was rearing its head again. She didn't know how to manage that, how to manage a world where she cared so deeply about another person and where John Reese of all people would risk his stupid life to shield her and where Shaw would fuss over her when she got hurt.

It wasn't a world she ever could have imagined and she had to wing it all and improvise and suddenly that was _terrifying._

She ran her thumb along Shaw's cheek. There was no way she could have told Shaw all that earlier, no matter how much her concern had touched her. Not when she didn't fully understand it herself. She just had to make sure she took care of her team the way they'd taken care of her.

She looked back up at Martine.

“What do you want?”

“To show you something. First you'll need to lose all the weapons though, but I promise it will be worth it.”

Root pulled her jacket off and bunched it up under Shaw's head. She ran one finger along Shaw's jaw--reassuring herself that she was okay--and then climbed to her feet. She slowly disarmed herself and placed each gun and her machete down on the table under Martine's watchful eye.

“And the gun strapped to your ankle,” Martine prompted.

Root smiled sweetly. “Oops.”

She was going to feed Martine to a zombie, one piece at a time while she was still alive.

“This way.”

Root didn't budge.

“Shaw will be fine here for five minutes, you have my word. I'm actually the only living Samaritan agent in the building. Well. Almost.”

“Funny, but I don't have a lot of faith in your word.” Especially since that meant Martine had almost certainly been the one to close the door on them earlier.

Martine nodded. “Well, in that case, if you don't come with me, I'll shoot Shaw this time.”

Root glared, but she didn't have much of a choice so she walked where Martine motioned her to. They went out a door on the side of the room across from where they'd originally come in and into a different staircase. This one only had stairs going up a single flight and the door at the top was locked with another keypad that Martine punched the code into.

“Inside.”

The room inside reminded Root of a viewing room for a police lineup or interrogation. There was only one very dim light and there was a window across the far wall the looked into the next room over. In that room there was a table and a chair with a man sitting in it, hunched over something he was holding in his hands.

Root had never seen John Greer before, but she had no doubt that was who this was.

“Is he going to try and convince me to switch sides?” Root asked, thoroughly unimpressed. Why was he acting so strangely?

“Greer isn't in a position to convince anyone of anything anymore.”

Martine walked over to the glass and tapped on it loudly. Greer raised his head and looked up at the window for a long minute. His eyes were vacant and unfocused. He turned back to the item in his hands.

“Mr. Greer's cunning and discerning mind went on a little field trip after the outbreak, I'm afraid. He might as well be a zombie in his state.” Martine smiled. “A _real_ shame, I'm sure. I think he couldn't handle his life's work falling apart, his cherished AI messing up so badly it killed off most of the population, and the conclusion he eventually reached about what Samaritan planned to do next.”

“And what conclusion was that?”

Martine tilted her head to one side. “You've just gotten a front row seat to seeing the latest of Samaritan's virus improvements in action. Samaritan wants a docile race to serve it and help rebuild it. They don't have to be human, though. Imagine if it could make the zombies just smart enough to be useful to it, but still ultimately mindless and easy to control.”

“That's….” It was disturbing and kind of disgusting to imagine. Root didn't even like people, but a world like that sounded terrible--not that she was supposed to be around to see it. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Personally, I'm not a fan of a world of nothing but zombies, but I do acknowledge Samaritan’s power and potential. Imagine if you could control it, maybe confine it now while it's busy fighting the other AI.” Martine paused. “I assume that's why it's suddenly too busy to give me orders?”

“Wouldn't know,” Root lied easily. The Machine hadn't been talking to her much in the last half hour, but She checked in briefly when She could.

Root craned her neck to try and see just what it was that Greer was so intent on. It looked like some sort of drive? Oh, of course.

“Why is he fondling Samaritan's original tape drives?”

“Dreaming of the possibilities of the past undoubtedly.” Martine waved a hand at the window. “He's irrelevant. That's what I brought you here to see. Samaritan needs someone to take charge of it before it wipes the rest of us out, and you are the only person left in the world who's capable of that.”

“And why would I ever want to do that?”

Martine smiled like she knew something Root didn't. “Samaritan had quite a file on you. It wasn't complete, but enough that I got a pretty good idea of who you are. You're not unlike me in some ways. You like hurting people, cutting them open and ripping out all their secrets and insecurities. You like killing them, and torturing them. You think they're all bad at their core, rotten through. Why not make a world where you can keep them in line, punish them and subject them to your every whim. Where you can make them hurt for every time they've made you hurt?” Martine leaned closer to her. “The world owes you that much, don't you think?”

Root wasn't completely sure if that described the world she'd once wanted, but there were little bits and pieces of it that rang true.

But.

But that wasn't the world the Machine wanted, and it wasn't a world Shaw would ever be okay with. And she was starting to think that it wasn't a world she'd want for herself either.

“Say all that is true,” she said slowly. “Then what do I need you for?”

“I know more about Samaritan than any human alive, and you'll need that knowledge to rebuild. And you'll also need someone to keep the others in line. You're not a trained fighter like your little girlfriend downstairs is. You might not be half bad in a fight, but you need someone even better. Someone to watch your back.”

“She definitely does need someone to watch her back,” said a new voice. “But that job's already taken.”

Root's entire face broke into a huge grin at the sight of Shaw in the doorway, a gun held in her uninjured hand. Martine spun around towards her, gun aiming, and Root lept into action. She'd been idly fingering the small push dagger tucked behind her belt that Martine had missed, and now she pulled it out and moved swiftly behind Martine and stabbed it into the side of her neck.

Shaw had told her to go for the throat after all.

Martine made a hideous gurgling noise and thrashed against her, so Root pulled the knife out and stabbed her a few more times until she stopped twitching and fell to the floor.

She and Shaw both regarded the corpse on the floor.

“I could have just shot her, you know.”

“You're hurt and possibly have a concussion. I didn’t want to risk it.”

“Bullshit. You just wanted to stab her.”

“That, too.” Martine had hurt Shaw, so she only had herself to blame for what had hopefully been a very painful death.

There were footsteps on the stairs and then John joined them in the room. He took in the scene: Greer off behind his window mumbling to himself and petting a tape drive, Shaw leaning heavily against the door frame, Martine's corpse bleeding all over the floor, and Root with her arm coated in blood and a chilling grin on her face.

“Next time we're not splitting up. I missed all the fun.”

“How was the basement?” Shaw asked.

“Full of zombies.”

“Figures.”

John gestured at the window. “What's with Greer?”

Root spared him a glance. “Apparently he had a bit of a mental break and has been off in la la land for years now.”

“Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy,” Shaw said.

“And what about her?” John pointed at Martine's corpse.

“Root avenged your shitty lamp.”

John nodded as if that made complete sense. “Good. So what now?”

“Now we rig the building to blow and get the hell out of here,” Root said.

John walked over to the window. “What about Greer?”

“He died years ago. And he'd want to go out with Samaritan.”

“Works for me,” Shaw said from the doorway. She was slumped against the doorframe with a grimace on her face.

“How's your head, sweetie?”

“Be a lot better once this place is a smoking crater and we're back home.”

Root could appreciate that. “Then let's get out of here.”

The entire time they planted the explosives and evacuated to a safe distance, she kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Samaritan to have one final plot twist to come after them with.

But nothing happened. They climbed to the roof of a building a good distance away just in time to watch Samaritan's server building blow up in a stupendous display.

“Good fucking riddance,” Shaw said with satisfaction.

She didn't try to pull away when Root reached for her hand.

The three of them watched the building collapse in content silence.

* * *

 

“How's the Machine doing?” Shaw asked much later that evening.

Root ran her fingers down Shaw's good arm in a gentle caress while she decided how to answer. They'd used their injuries to plead out of dealing with all the immediate aftermath of the fight and come back to the basement. Shaw had patched up Root's injuries and redone the splint on her own wrist before she begrudgingly accepted painkillers at Root's insistence.

Maybe it was the codeine, but Root had been able to talk Shaw into lying down. On her. She was sitting propped up against the headboard of Shaw's bed with Shaw firmly ensconced between her legs and leaning back to use her as a second mattress.

Between Shaw safe and warm up against her and the voice of the Machine in her ear, Root felt like the whole terrible day had been worth it.

“She won, if that's what you mean. Well, won the battle, not the war.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Shaw asked suspiciously. She prodded Root in the knee when she didn't answer.

Root didn't want to have this conversation tonight. She wanted to let them all bask in their victory before she explained what was still left to do.

“I'll explain after we've recovered a bit. It's not urgent exactly.”

“Hmph.” Shaw didn't sound that annoyed though and she squirmed around against Root to get herself more comfortable. Down at the foot of the bed, Bear snored softly.

“What Martine said…” Shaw started.

“You heard all that?”

“Some of it. Was she right though? Was what she was describing something you would have wanted?”

Shaw's voice held no judgement, only curiosity.

“Not exactly how she pitched it, but something a bit similar maybe.” Without the controlling an AI bit though for sure. The Machine should never answer to humans.

She nudged her nose into Shaw's hair a little. Mildly concussed and drugged Shaw who let her snuggle her and nuzzle her hair was the best, she decided. “It's something I might have wanted once upon a time.”

“But not anymore?”

Root idly threaded a lock of Shaw's hair through her fingers and considered how to answer that. “No, not anymore,” was all she said in the end.

“So what _do_ you want now?”

Root chewed on her bottom lip, unsure if she should be truthful.

“Root?” Shaw shifted a little to look back up at her. She looked calm and content and maybe just the tiniest bit concerned.

Root made up her mind.

“This. I want...this.” Everything else that needed to be figured out could come later.

Shaw turned back around and Root waited, tension thrumming through her body.

“Okay,” Shaw said at last.

“Okay?” Root echoed, unsure if that meant what she thought it did.

“Yeah, okay, Root.” Shaw's eyes were shut, but there was a small, satisfied smirk on her lips.

Root didn't try to hold back her smile, but she did resist the urge to give Shaw a good squeeze. She settled for looping her arms loosely around her.

“Don't think this gets you out of telling me whatever the hell it is about the Machine and Samaritan you still haven't told me.”

“Of course not. In the morning though.”

Shaw nodded and settled in even more. “Yeah, in the morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one chapter left I think. there's some aftermath and epilogue but I think it's all going to be one thing.


	15. Three Months After the Beginning of the World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mostly a wrapping up loose ends chapter with hints of the future. some exposition, some banging, some feelings. the usual.

Root wasn't procrastinating, she was skillfully budgeting her time so she spent the least amount possible doing things she wasn't enthusiastic about doing. Like packing.

The last few months had flown by so quickly in a rush of changes as the city slowly reshaped itself and tried to establish a new form of order. To Root, the new systems being put in place were depressingly like the old ones, but then she'd expected as much. She had to admit that Carter had helped push things in a better direction, but Carter was only one woman up against a mass of survivors who were rapidly becoming more bold in the face of the proof that the cure could be altered slightly to be used as a vaccine.

But the rules and governing structures being made felt like more of the same to her, so in that respect she was glad to be leaving the city for a while. She wasn't sure how it was possible that she'd both missed people when she'd been out on her own and still intensely wanted nothing to do with them. At least she wouldn't be alone this time.

“Have you moved since I left?”

Root looked up to see Shaw in the doorway. She was dressed for jogging and there was a light sheen of sweat still on her skin so she must have just gotten back from her morning workout.

“Guess I got distracted.” Root drummed her fingers on the briefcase sitting in her lap. She was distracted again now by the sweat beaded on Shaw's skin, though that was a much nicer distraction.

“We still need to find the rest of those?” Shaw asked pointing at the case with her chin. She didn't seem to be in any hurry to go shower.

“The data She lost? We should try to while we're out there.”

“Didn't she need that back when she was brawling with Samaritan?” Shaw walked into the room more, glanced at Root's bed and then down at herself.

Root smiled at her dilemma. “You know I always enjoy you being sweaty in my bed, sweetie.”

“That's different,” Shaw grumbled. She sat on the floor next to the bed instead and then looked up at Root and waited for an answer.

“Anything more we could have gotten Her would certainly have helped, but as it was She didn't fight fair, so She was able to manage. The knowledge on those drives, though, a lot of it is data from before the outbreak that will be hard or impossible to ever get back otherwise.”

“So we'll keep an eye out for more briefcases while we're out there. Is her whole thing going well or whatever?”

Root raised an eyebrow. “Thing?” She knew what Shaw meant, but she made it sound so much less impressive than it was. “Yes, Her ‘thing’ is going just fine.”

“No signs that Samaritan found a way back in?”

“All the satellites remain firmly under Her control.”

Root had known that Samaritan was using the satellites as well, but she hadn't realized how dependant on them it had been to communicate between its various scattered locations. It made sense since there wasn't enough infrastructure down on earth to enable it to keep up communications any other way. Samaritan was predictably efficient though and had only used the satellites best suited to its needs and hadn't wasted any energy or time on the others except for occasionally scanning them for traces of Her.

The Machine had been able to have free run of most of the satellites as long as She'd been careful not to get caught, and She'd used Her time well--building up a net of defenses in each satellite to block Samaritan out. At full power before the outbreak, Samaritan wouldn't have been deterred by such measures, but now it was weak and scattered.

The satellites it normally inhabited had been the tricky part. She'd had to write something to drive it out of each one and lock the door behind it and then She'd had to actively attack it at each satellite as well, overwhelming it completely until it was forced to flee down to all its hardware on earth (though it had one less location to flee to once they'd blown up the server building, a distraction which had also helped Her win).

“Hope she can keep it that way for long enough.”

“She'll manage. We'll have all the time we need for a leisurely road trip.”

Because even though Samaritan was gone from Manhattan, there were other cities out there where some remnant of it lived on, isolated but always looking for ways out. And who else could She possibly send to deal with that?

Root could appreciate that they were the only choice here, but she still didn't like it much. She'd wanted to stay here for a while, to be able to enjoy Shaw's company and talking to Her freely and maybe starting to design what the future of the internet might look like someday when they could rebuild. It would have been a nice break.

She was pulled from her thoughts by the feeling of Shaw's fingers sliding up the outside of her leg. She'd forgone pants in favor of a pair of Shaw's boxers since she hadn't been planning on going out anytime soon, and Shaw looked to be very appreciative of her exposed legs.

“It's a trip,” Shaw said to Root's knee. “A trip we're coming back here after.”

“I know that.” She must have looked like she was moping again, and maybe she had been a bit. “But I'd rather not have to go at all.”

Shaw's fingers slid a little higher, up past her knee and just slightly under the bottom of her boxers. “Then we don't have to go.”

“Of course we have to go. Samaritan is still out there.”

Shaw didn't respond, but she did shift so she was sitting more in front of Root and ran her hands up and down the backs of her calves. Root was pretty sure she knew where this was headed, but Shaw didn't seem to be in a rush today.

“The Machine can't make you go,” Shaw said finally. “So if you don't want to…”

Root placed one hand on Shaw's shoulder and the other on the side of her neck, lightly so she could easily shake her off if she needed. “She wouldn't make me. She believes strongly in free will, you know, but She does need my help with this--our help--and I want to help Her. So I'll go.”

“We're not going anywhere if you don't pack.”

She pulled on Shaw's hair a little. “Maybe I just need some motivation.”

Shaw smirked. “I bet.”

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

She expected Shaw to climb up on the bed then, but instead Shaw tugged at the bottom of Root's boxers until she got the message and lifted herself up a little so Shaw could pull them off of her. Root shivered with delight as Shaw ran her hands up the back of her legs one more time and then slid them around to the front of her knees and slowly pushed her legs apart. Shaw scooted forwards and Root slid to the very edge of the bed to meet her, discarding her shirt along the way.

This was definitely better than packing.

Root was thoroughly distracted by Shaw sucking a bruise onto the inside of her thigh so it took her a minute to remember a very important fact. She spared a glance at the open door. John was out running some errand today, right? Still, maybe they should shut the door just in case someone--

Shaw's lips closed over her clit and she sucked hard and Root promptly forgot all about the door. There were way too many more important things to think about how--like Shaw's fingernails digging harshly into her thighs, Shaw's hair soft and still damp with sweat between her fingers, Shaw's tongue sliding inside her making her gasp and pull Shaw tighter against herself. Couldn't blame a girl for forgetting something under the circumstances.

Shaw had always been extremely good at this, but she was really bringing her best game this morning and between the feeling of Shaw's hot mouth on her and the wet sounds coming from between her legs and Shaw's little grunts of satisfaction it all became too much to process and Root fell back on the bed.

And promptly smacked her head against the wall because her bed wasn't wide enough to lay back on sideways.

“Fuck.”

Shaw was hovering over her in a flash and helped her to sit back up. “You okay? Not quite the way I was looking to make you black out.”

“I'm fine.” She grabbed Shaw by the collar and pulled her down into a kiss and was unable to hold back a moan at the taste of herself on Shaw's lips. No matter how many times they did this she'd always be weak for that proof of Shaw's affections.

Shaw pulled back. “Here, slide this way.”

They repositioned a bit so Root could lie back properly. She wasn't a fan of the nasty bump she was going to have on the back of her head, but it was kind of nice how they could have these little awkward moments and still be okay together.

And this time things went much smoother and she came with her thighs squeezed tight around Shaw's head.

“Just think, next time we do this will be in the back of that new car we stole.”

Shaw snorted. “That's two days from now. You planning on being somewhere else til then?”

“Mmm, good point.”

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

Shaw had never slept with one person long enough to feel familiar with their body the way she felt with Root's. She knew every inch of her now--from her ridiculous black nail polish painted toes up to her ludicrously glossy hair. The ragged, raised scar on the side of her neck was still new to her, and Root had stiffened the first time Shaw had pressed her mouth up against it, but now, as Shaw ran her tongue along the rough patch of skin, Root relaxed into her and she realized she was starting to see it as just another part of Root, a piece of their past together.

She'd thought about staying behind when Root went to finish off Samaritan--she could use a damn vacation (especially now that her wrist was mostly healed up and she could do things again), but she had a feeling that staying in the city wasn't a vacation with all the political drama going on. And the idea of letting Root drive off on her own was troubling. Reckless nerd would probably get herself in trouble out there without someone watching her back, a job which Shaw seemed to have irrevocably claimed in her attempt to sound suave.

She definitely wasn't slacking off on the job since Root's back was currently pressed up against Shaw where she sat behind her on the bed. They were both sticky with sweat now and Root was drowsy, her weight slumped back into Shaw. This was unquestionably cuddling, but Shaw couldn't bring herself to move just yet. She was busy.

“Shaw?”

Shaw disengaged her mouth from Root's neck. “Yeah?”

“After we're back, you know after Samaritan is gone everywhere, what do you want to do?”

Shaw had actually been thinking about that some in the last few months. “Dunno exactly, but I thought maybe I'd go back to helping the Machine save numbers, like we've been doing all this time. I mean, if she's still up for giving me numbers.” She knew that it'd be a long time before anything like the ISA could exist again, and, well, that hadn't worked out too well in the end and working directly for the source sounded much better anyway.

“And you'd be okay doing that?”

“Well, it'd be great if she could pay me or something.” Though there was currently a heated debate about what society should look like now centered around the evils of capitalism. Elias was having to fight with angry twenty-somethings over the benefits of abolishing currency and a bunch of other similar stuff that frankly just gave Shaw a headache.

There was a lot of push for ‘getting things back to normal’ before trying to overhaul society, but Shaw knew _exactly_ how that would end without needing the Machine to predict it for her. And with the population so isolated now there was no guarantee that the country would even still be one country after the dust settled.

As for the rest of the world…. The outbreak had definitely spread across the entire continent, and there'd been rumours that it had spread overseas as well, but no one knew for sure. It seemed likely since no other country had shown up or bombed the hell out of them in the last few years.

Surely the Machine must have known what was going on out there. Maybe Shaw would grill Root about it once they were on the road, but right now she wasn't in the mood for that sort of chat and they'd have more than enough time in the coming days.

But the Machine had another think coming if she thought Shaw was going to help her retake the entire globe from the undead. Fuck that.

“What about you?” She'd asked Root that before in various ways, but her answers were always a little vague.

Root only tensed up the tiniest bit at the question, but, pressed up against her, Shaw could feel it.

“I asked Her what She needed me to do after Samaritan was gone.”

The Machine might be all about Root making her own decisions, but Root definitely seemed inclined to follow the Machine's wishes no matter what. Probably posed a nasty conundrum for the Machine to sort out. Shaw wondered if AI could get headaches.

She scraped her teeth along the scar on Root's neck and smirked a little when Root's breath stuttered. “And?”

Root reached back to grab Shaw's shoulder and dug her nails in deep. This time it was Shaw whose breath caught and she relished the sting of the scratches Root was leaving on her back.

“She said She needed me to do what I wanted to do, and I said I wanted to do what She needed me to do. The conversation went around in circles.”

Shaw actually felt sorry for the Machine. Definitely a headache-inducing conversation that she wasn't eager to dive into, but she had a feeling that Root would figure it out on her own eventually and they had probably at least a year on the road ahead of them for her to do so.

She wrapped an arm around Root so she could flatten her hand across the soft skin of her stomach, focused on the slight fluttering of Root's muscles underneath her fingers.

“You know, I can probably handle the numbers alone, but it'd be a lot easier with someone watching my back.”

She'd hoped Root would pick up the obvious reference to watching her back from their little confrontation with Martine the other day, but either that had slipped her mind or she was being willfully oblivious because she just said, “Good thing you've got John. The big lug is useful for some things, I suppose.”

The supposedly mean nickname would have been more convincing if she hadn't seen Root and Reese willingly hanging out and conspiring together on any number of occasions in the past few months.

“He has his moments--” She silently apologized to Reese for that. “--but he's going to be busy being Carter's shadow. I need someone who's more--” She leaned in to put her lips next to Root's ear and pressed down just slightly with her fingertips at the same time. “--focused.”

Root's breath hitched and Shaw smirked with satisfaction against her neck. Distracting Root every time she got a bit morose about the future sounded like an awful lot of work, but fortunately she was well qualified.

“It's strange, but I'm suddenly I'm feeling incredibly focused, Sameen.”

Shaw’s free hand played along the inside of Root's thigh. “I bet.”

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

She still had a long day ahead of her so she didn't waste time. One hand stayed on Root's stomach, fingers splayed and pressing down, the other worked a fast, rough rhythm between Root's legs while she left marks all over Root's neck with her mouth and teeth. Root couldn't get mopey about her scar if it was completely obscured with hickies and bite marks. Sexier bite marks.

Root came with a sharp gasp and melted back into her, completely boneless. Shaw had to squirm out from under her and let her flop back on the bed (safely away from the wall this time). She looked down with annoyance at Root, sprawled out and satiated. One of them had gotten off way more than the other this morning and now she'd fucked Root useless. Oh well, looked like she was going to have to even things up on her own.

She chose to sit on top of Root, straddling her hips while she took care of herself. Root must have recovered a bit because her hand glided up Shaw's leg, her touch so light it almost tickled. Shaw moved her own hand aside to let Root take over and instead trailed patterns across Root's chest and stomach with the wetness of her own fingers. She came far too quickly with Root's skilled, slender fingers deep inside her so she crawled up the bed to go for one more while grinding herself against Root's mouth.

Root's mouth was hot and wet against her and Shaw stared down at her face between her legs as she brought her to the edge again. It was a pretty great view, she thought, one which she was glad she'd get to continue seeing for the indefinite future.

She sprawled out on top of Root after, catching her breath and letting Root run her hands up and down her back. It still surprised her after all these months how comfortable in her own skin Root could make her feel. 

She knew she was running late for her meeting with Carter this afternoon, but she still took some time to lazily make out with Root for a bit, enjoying the taste of herself in Root's mouth and the way Root clumsily but affectionately groped her ass. Carter could wait a few more minutes, she figured.

Root paused in the middle of a deep, wet kiss that held just the hint of promise that maybe they could go for round three. She pulled back and slapped Shaw on the ass, hard.

 

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

“She says you're playing hookie, sweetie. Something about talking to Carter this afternoon?”

“Of all the times you've ignored the Machine, this is the time you choose not to?”

“Well, She's been telling me that for about half an hour.”

“Hmph.” Shaw climbed off of her and started gathering her clothes up. She'd need to take a shower before she went for sure. She looked back down at Root lying on her bed, pale limbs sprawled out, her hair sticking up every which way, her face and chest still flushed pink, and a lazy, content smile across her lips. Seemed a shame to make her get up. Hell, it seemed a shame that either of them had to leave. But….

“You coming with me?”

“Well, we don't have much time left, but maybe if we were quick we could manage a little simultaneous--”

“ _To the meeting_ , Root.”

“Sounds less fun, but I suppose I should.”

They ended up showering together to save time, and while Shaw had been doubtful that Root would be able to keep her hands to herself, she seemed to be all business now.

“You hit your groping quota for the day?” Shaw asked as they toweled off.

“No--” Root grimaced. “--She threatened to play me audio of John and Zoe making out if I didn't hurry.”

“Wow.” Shaw was genuinely impressed by the cruelty of that. The Machine must have really been fed up with Root’s antics today.

Root was definitely moving a bit slowly still by the time they got out the door, but at least she'd stopped demanding that Shaw carry her. It was technically spring now, but you wouldn't know it from how cold it was outside. The long walk in the cold proved to be just the thing to wake Root up and clear both their heads a little.

“Sucks that we still can't drive here after all that.” Shaw really missed driving though she knew she'd get to do plenty of it soon enough.

“It's going to be a long time before that becomes common again. Not only are the roads all cluttered and in terrible repair, but gas is getting harder and harder to come by. We'll be relying heavily on alternative fuel sources in the future.”

“Guess the apocalypse is good for the environment. Probably helped with global warming, too.” At last, a bright side to the end of the world.

Root tilted her head to one side. “Horses can make a comeback. The city had mounted police already so it's completely feasible.”

“That might be cool actually.” It wasn't quite as cool as a really sweet car, but it had potential. She'd probably look pretty badass on a horse, maybe with a cool hat and coat or something.

“We can keep an eye out for a suitable horse for you while we're on the road.”

Carter's precinct was overflowing with people now, much different from what Shaw was used to. Carter wasn't exactly in charge of the city, but her word carried a lot of weight and people seemed to come to her for all sorts of things now. Carter wasn't completely pleased with her new situation, but, as Shaw had pointed out to her, she'd probably have been even less pleased if she'd had to watch idiots making decisions.

Carter ushered both of them into an empty interrogation room and shut the door behind them.

“I'm not even going to ask why you two were so late.”

Root opened her mouth to explain and Carter raised a hand to cut her off.

“One word and you can spend the rest of this visit in the drunk tank.”

The smile on Root's face was only one of her mildly threatening and disturbing ones--a definite improvement from when they'd first met, but Shaw didn't think they'd ever be buddies. There was a decent measure of mutual respect there and Shaw figured that was more important.

“So you two are still planning to take off in two days?”

“That's the plan.” She'd meant it when she'd told Root they didn't have to go. Samaritan had to be dealt with, but, well, she wasn't sure but what. She just hadn't wanted Root to feel like she had no options, because she hated when she felt like that and Root had been so damn good about always making sure she had options and wasn't feeling trapped so the least she could do was try and offer her options in return.

“Girls’ road trip,” Root added and she hopped up on the edge of the table.

There'd been a pair of cuffs on the table already and Root picked them up and started playing with them. Carter crossed the room and snatched them back.

“We're not going to run out of handcuffs because you two can't keep your hands to--” Carter stopped abruptly and glared suspiciously at Root who looked crushed that Carter had ruined her pun opportunity.

Maybe it was a good thing Root was getting out of the city for a while before Carter finally went through with her threat to arrest her.

“Anything you need us to look for while we're out there?” Shaw asked to distract both of them.

“A couple things.” Carter tucked the spare cuffs away and leaned on the wall near the door. “First, if you find any survivors, you send them back here. We've got a decent grasp on producing more of this vaccine now so we need to spread it everywhere.”

Shaw exchanged a quick look with Root. They'd had a _tiny_ argument with Carter about who they were handing the vaccine out to. Root had mentioned to her some of the less charming people who lived out in the wild and as far as Shaw was concerned they could all rot, but Carter was adamant that they didn't get to choose who lived or died like that (though she had told them not to endanger themselves needlessly). What was the most odd about the whole thing was that Root said the Machine wouldn't tell her what to do in this case. It made Shaw wonder just where she drew the line between helping people and invalidating free will.

“We'll send people back.” It was a vague promise since she didn't want to outright lie to Carter.

“When's the next time you think you'll be in town?”

“Hard to say. Not for another month at least though.” Before they got too far away there might be chances to stop back in the city between missions and restock.

Carter pulled a bundle of folded maps out of her pocket. “Any hospitals or medical centers you find, mark them on these maps and bring them back with you. Same for any other place that might have things we need. Drug stores that haven't been looted, hardware stores, things like that. With people immune to the virus we'll be able to make a better attempt at gathering supplies now.”

Shaw took the pile of maps. They'd do for now, but eventually she'd have to find more as they moved further away. People hadn't been using maps much with the rise of google and everyone had regretted that a little after the internet was gone.

“People and useful supplies. Got it. What else?” She moved over to lean on the table next to where Root was sitting. Root closed the already-minuscule distance between them so their arms were just brushing.

Carter eyed them suspiciously as if convinced they were going to start making out _right there_. “Any other updates to the maps you can make,” she said once she was satisfied everyone's hands were where she could see them. “Roads that are usable and ones that aren't, settlements, places clear of the zombies or overly infested. Any useful intel you can bring me, I can use.”

Somehow they were now working for both the Machine and Carter.

“Should have taken a cartography elective in college,” Root said dryly.

Shaw turned to look at her. “Did you even go to college?” It was odd to realize she didn't know something simple like that about Root.

“Briefly as part of a job, but I never properly enrolled.”

“What type of ‘job’?” Carter asked.

Root just smiled.

Bringing her along had probably not been conducive to getting things done, Shaw conceded.

“We'll do what we can,” Shaw promised. “You said you had something for me?”

“Yeah, this way.”

Carter brought them to the holding cells in the back of the precinct and pulled a crate out from behind a stack of other crates. She pulled the top off and stepped back.

“Enough ammo to keep you two in business for a while anyway. Suppose you'll find more out there as you go.”

“This will come in handy for sure.”

Carter shook her head. “Still can't believe you're leaving me here to sort out this mess while you drive off into the sunset with your girlfriend.”

Shaw opened her mouth to automatically correct the term, but Carter was looking right at her like she was just waiting for her to try. She decided that letting it lie was probably preferable to trying to explain why Root wasn't her girlfriend, especially since she wasn't sure she could. She made a point of not looking at Root though since she was probably smirking in that annoying-but-hot way she had.

“We're going off to fight the remnants of an all-powerful AI in a country swarming with undead. Not sure we're getting the better end of this deal.”

“We can compare notes when you get back. Winner buys the loser a drink. If there's anything left to drink, I mean.”

Shaw had a few bottles hidden away still, but she wasn't going to let anyone, even Carter, know about them.

“We can carry this back, I think,” Shaw said as she tested the weight of the crate. She turned to Root. “If your scrawny arms are up to the job, that is.”

Root's wide smile promised that Shaw was going to pay for that later.

“I'm sure I'll manage.”

They both managed and they added the crate to the pile of supplies in the basement.

“Good thing you two stole a big car,” Reese said, looking at the small tower of boxes. He'd beaten them back to the basement.

“Root's got like two boxes of computer junk in there. No clue what she needs it for.” Root had retreated to her room to actually pack.

“Maybe she's rebuilding the internet.”

“I don't think that's how it works.”

“Probably not.”

Reese sat down at the table and for a second all Shaw could think was how normal the whole scene looked because it had been just like this for so long, just her and Reese in the basement. But now there was that little bottle of Root's nail polish on the table, and the flannel button down she'd taken to wearing lately hanging on a chair, and a bunch of her random odds and ends scattered in with all their stuff. Now it would have looked wrong without Root's things mixed in with theirs.

Reese looked around as well, his expression almost sad. “I keep wondering if I'm doing the right thing, staying here.”

“Can't help you there.” Part of her wanted Reese to come with them even if it meant less spontaneous roadside sex, but Reese needed to stay here and help Carter. Help her from the shadows, as he'd dramatically put it.

“If you need me to come with you….”

She got that the question was more for him than for her. “We'll be fine.”

He looked up from the table, away towards the door to Root's room and then back to her. The expression on his face was almost fond and she looked away, feeling awkward.

“Yeah, you will be,” Reese said.

* * *

 

“Still say you should have waited for it to warm up some more.”

Root shivered and wondered if maybe John had a point after all.

“It's technically spring.”

“But it's actually cold.”

“I'm sure Shaw and I will find a way to keep warm.”

“I'm sure you will.”

John had gotten harder to tease lately which was no fun at all.

They watched together as Shaw put the last crate in the back of the giant hummer. Carter was with her and they were chatting quietly enough that Root couldn't hear them, but Shaw had a little half smile on and Carter didn't look too serious so she figured it was a light-hearted goodbye.

“Basement is going to be really empty without you three.”

For a moment Root thought he meant Carter but that obviously made no sense at all. She looked down over at the big dog who sat next to the car, panting happily. She'd been a little worried about bringing Bear along, but Shaw had insisted this time. She hadn't been willing to spend a year without her dog.

“Put some music on then. Or a movie.” She'd gotten a download of media from the Machine and loaded up a laptop for him as a goodbye present and a thank you for all the books he'd lent her. “It'll practically be the same as having us there.”

“Maybe if it was a porno.”

Root was impressed--John had learned to fight back. Maybe Carter had coached him.

Shaw waved them over and Root gathered herself. She'd woken up this morning with Shaw suffocating her slightly with an arm thrown carelessly across her face. It had been uncomfortable and too warm and should have been way too domestic for her to feel comfortable with. And she'd felt, well, a bit too hot, but otherwise she'd felt normal. That was normal now and it was something she was taking with her, something she didn't have to leave behind. She might be going back out there into the wilderness where things were still dangerous and violent, but she'd still have the Machine there with her to tell her stories and help her avoid hostile bovine, and she'd have Shaw and her quiet but intense warmth to wake up to every day.

And suddenly she'd been much more okay with the trip. She might be leaving her home, but in some ways she was bringing part of it with her.

“Guess this is it,” John said. He gave her a smile that barely passed as not being a grimace. “You, uh, be safe, okay? Both of you.” He paused. “All three of you,” he amended.

She wasn't sure which of them was more surprised by the impulsive hug she gave him. It was stiff and awkward and they pulled apart almost immediately, but she was glad she'd done it for the small, pleased smile she saw him hide.

“I have something for you.” She pulled her other goodbye present out and presented it to him.

“That's my gun. I was cleaning it this morning. You stole my gun again.”

“Yes, but I stole it to return it to you.”

The symbolism was apparently lost on John who still seemed hung up on the whole stealing part. Honestly, this is what she got for trying to be nice.

Shaw joined them. “You still have his coat, too.”

Root didn't comment on that. It was damned cold out and it was a nice coat even with the blood stains.

“I'll see you around, Reese.”

Shaw and Reese exchanged some sort of silent nod that probably was as close as they'd ever come to a hug. Carter looked like she was thinking about hugging Shaw but instead went for a firm handshake and a pat on the arm.

“You two take care of each other, and we'll see you soon.”

“You won't even notice we're gone,” Shaw promised and then quickly retreated to the car, clearly done with goodbyes.

Root gave them a polite smile and nod before she followed Shaw back to the hummer and climbed into the passenger's seat. Bear was already settled in the back.

“Thank god that's over with,” Shaw said as she started the engine, but she flipped Reese and Carter a lazy salute before she backed the car up.

“Just us now,” Root said as they headed out towards the highway. This area was already much less full of zombies than it had been thanks to the systematic effort to clear them out. One day it might be safe for people to live in again.

“Us and Bear.”

“Bear was included in the ‘us’.”

“Good.”

The rusted sign for the highway was up ahead (and partly behind a tree like the rest of the signs in this state) and Shaw slowed down a little.

“Last chance to change your mind.”

“I'm not going to change my mind, Sameen. And I think...I think I've figured out what I'm going to do after this, too.” She'd always known the various pieces of what she'd wanted and with Shaw working for Her maybe she could have all of it.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhmm. I'll tell you about it once we get on the highway.”

Shaw took the exit ramp and swerved slightly to clip a straggler zombie wandering by the edge of the road.

“Fucking zombies.”

“Don't you mean undead?”

“Whatever. You gonna tell me about your grand plans or what?”

“Of course, sweetie.”

And she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's a wrap, folks. thanks for reading and i hope you enjoyed the ride.
> 
> i'm probably going to write something else in the near future (not for this au, but for shoot). there's space western i still need to update and i have a first chapter of a very different au that's been written for a while now. so there'll be something.


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